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Ex  Libris  Gulielrni  Kenneth 
Macrorie;D.D.  Episcopi  Can- 
•onici  Eliensis  qui  migravit 
ab  L  uce  XVI?  Kal.Och  nrvcmv 
anno  LXXV2  oefextis  suoe 

iral    Li' 















VOL.  IV. 








I.  GEORGE  HERBERT Isaac  Walton.  1 

II.  SIR  HENRY  WOTTON Isaac  Walton.  65 

III.  NICHOLAS  FERRAR Dr.  Peckard.  117 

IV.  BISHOP  HALI Himself.  265 

V.  DR.  HENRY  HAMMOND        Bishop  Fell.  327 

VI.  BISHOP  SANDERSON        Isaac  Walton.  409 

VII.  RICHARD  BAXTER Himself.  489 

VIII.  SIR  MATTHEW  HALE Bishop  Burnet.  521 

IX.  EARL  OF  ROCHESTER Bishop  Burnet.  599 

X.  ARCHBISHOP  TILLOTSON Anonymous.  677 

INDEX       727 

We  exhort  all  that  desire  to  be  saved  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  that 
they  decline  from  these  horrid  doctrines  of  the  Papacy,  which  in  their  birth 
are  new,  in  their  growth  are  scandalous,  in  their  proper  consequents  are  infi- 
nitely dangerous  to  their  souls. — But  therefore  it  is  highly  fit  that  they  should 
also  perceive  their  own  advantages,  and  give  God  praise  that  they  are 
removed  from  such  infinite  dangers,  by  the  holy  precepts,  and  holy  faith 
taught  and  commanded  in  the  Church  of  England  and  Ireland ;  in  which  the 
Word  of  God  is  set  before  them  as  a  lantern  to  their  feet,  and  a  light  unto 
their  eyes ;  and  the  Sacraments  are  fully  administered  according  to  Christ's 
institution;  and  Repentance  is  preached  according  to  the  measures  of  the 
Gospel;  and  Faith  in  Christ  is  propounded  according  to  the  rule  of  the 
Apostles,  and  the  measures  of  the  Churches  Apostolical ;  and  Obedience  to 
kings  is  greatly  and  sacredly  urged ;  and  the  authority  and  order  of  Bishops  is 
preserved,  against  the  usurpation  of  the  Pope,  and  the  invasion  of  Schis- 
matics and  Aerians,  new  and  old ;  and  Truth  and  Faith  to  all  men  is  kept 
and  preached  to  be  necessary  and  inviolable ;  and  the  Commandments  are 
expounded  with  just  severity  and  without  scruples;  and  Holiness  of  Life 
is  urged  upon  all  men  as  indispensably  necessary  to  salvation,  and  therefore 
without  any  allowances,  tricks,  and  little  artifices  of  escaping  from  it  by 
easy  and  imperfect  doctrines ;  and  every  thing  is  practised  which  is  useful  to 
the  saving  of  our  souls;  and  Christ's  Merits  and  Satisfaction  are  entirely 
relied  upon  for  the  pardon  of  our  sins  ;  and  the  necessity  of  Good  Works  is 
universally  taught;  and  our  Prayers  are  holy,  unblameable,  edifying,  and 
understood ;  are  according  to  the  measures  of  the  Word  of  God,  and  the 
practice  of  all  Saints. — In  this  Church,  the  children  are  duly  Baptized  ;  and 
the  baptized  in  their  due  time  are  Confirmed ;  and  the  confirmed  are  Com- 
municated; and  Penitents  are  absolved,  and  the  impenitents  punished  and 
discouraged ;  and  Holy  Marriage  in  all  men  is  preferred  before  unclean 
concubinate  in  any ;  and  nothing  is  wanting  that  God  and  his  Church  hath 
made  necessary  to  salvation. 



VOL.  IV. 

The  world  o'erlooks  him  in  her  husy  search 

Of  objects  more  illustrious  in  her  view; 

And  occupied  as  earnestly  as  she, 

Though  more  sublimely,  he  o'erlooks  the  world. 

She  scorns  his  pleasures,  for  she  knows  them  not : 

He  seeks  not  her's,  for  he  has  found  them  vain. 

Not  slothful  he,  though  seeming  unemployed, 

And  censured  oft  as  useless. 

Perhaps  the  self-approving  haughty  world 
Receives  advantage  from  his  noiseless  hours 
Of  which  she  little  dreams.     Perhaps  she  owes 
Her  sunshine  and  her  rain,  her  blooming  spring 
And  plenteous  harvests  to  the  prayer  he  makes, 
Thinking  for  her  who  thinks  not  for  herself. 



IN  a  late  retreat  from  the  business  of  this  world,  and  those  many 
little  cares  with  which  I  have  too  often  cumbered  myself,  I  fell 
into  a  contemplation  of  some  of  those  historical  passages  that  are 
recorded  in  sacred  story;  and,  more  particularly,  of  what  had 
passed  betwixt  our  blessed  Saviour,  and  that  wonder  of  women, 
and  sinners,  and  mourners,  saint  Mary  Magdalen.  I  call  her 
saint,  because  I  did  not  then,  nor  do  now  consider  her,  as  when 
she  was  possest  with  seven  devils ;  not  as  when  her  wanton  eyes, 
and  dishevelled  hair,  were  designed  and  managed,  to  charm  and 
insnare  amorous  beholders  :  but,  I  did  then,  and  do  now  consider 
her,  as  after  she  had  exprest  a  visible  and  sacred  sorrow  for  her 
sensualities ;  as,  after  those  eyes  had  wept  such  a  flood  of  peni- 
tential tears  as  did  wash,  and  that  hair  had  wiped,  and  she  most 
passionately  kist  the  feet  of  her  and  our  blessed  Jesus.  And,  I 
do  now  consider,  that  because  she  loved  much,  not  only  much  was 
forgiven  her ;  but  that,  beside  that  blessed  blessing  of  having  her 
sins  pardoned,  and  the  joy  of  knowing  her  happy  condition,  she 
also  had  from  him  a  testimony,  that  her  alabaster  box  of  precious 
ointment  poured  on  his  head  and  feet,  and  that  spikenard,  and 
those  spices  that  were  by  her  dedicated  to  embalm  and  preserve 
his  sacred  body  from  putrefaction,  should  so  far  preserve  her  own 
memory,  that  these  demonstrations  of  her  sanctified  love,  and  of 
her  officious  and  generous  gratitude,  should  be  recorded  and 
mentioned  wheresoever  his  gospel  should  be  read;  intending 
thereby,  that  as  his,  so  her  name  should  also  live  to  succeeding 
generations,  even  till  time  itself  shall  be  no  more. 

Upon  occasion  of  which  fair  example,  I  did  lately  look  back, 
and  not  without  some  content  (at  least  to  myself)  that  I  have 
endeavoured  to  deserve  the  love,  and  preserve  the  memory  of  my 
two  deceased  friends,  Dr.  Donne,  and  sir  Henry  Wotton,  by 

B  2 


declaring  the  several  employments  and  various  accidents  of  their 
lives :  and,  though  Mr.  George  Herbert  (whose  life  I  now  intend 
to  write)  were  to  me  a  stranger  as  to  his  person,  for  I  have  only 
seen  him ;  yet,  since  he  was,  and  was  worthy  to  be  their  friend, 
and  very  many  of  his  have  been  mine,  I  judge  it  may  not  be 
unacceptable  to  those  that  knew  any  of  them  in  their  lives,  or  do 
now  know  them,  by  mine,  or  their  own  writings,  to  see  this  con- 
junction of  them  after  their  deaths ;  without  which,  many  things 
that  concerned  them,  and  some  things  that  concerned  the  age  in 
which  they  lived,  would  be  less  perfect,  and  lost  to  posterity. 

For  these  reasons  I  have  undertaken  it,  and  if  I  have  prevented 
any  abler  person,  I  beg  pardon  of  him,  and  my  reader. 


GEORGE  HERBERT  was  born  the  third  day  of  April,  in  the  year 
of  our  redemption  1593.  The  place  of  his  birth  was  near  to  the 
town  of  Montgomery,  and  in  that  castle  that  did  then  bear  the 
name  of  that  town  and  county.  That  castle  was  then  a  place  of 
state  and  strength,  and  had  been  successively  happy  in  the  family 
of  the  Herberts,  who  had  long  possest  it ;  and,  with  it,  a  plentiful 
estate,  and  hearts  as  liberal  to  their  poor  neighbours.  A  family, 
that  hath  been  blest  with  men  of  remarkable  wisdom,  and  a  wil- 
lingness to  serve  their  country,  and  indeed,  to  do  good  to  all 
mankind ;  for  which  they  are  eminent.  But  alas  !  this  family  did 
in  the  late  rebellion  suffer  extremely  in  their  estates ;  and  the 
heirs  of  that  castle  saw  it  laid  level  with  that  earth  that  was  too 
good  to  bury  those  wretches  that  were  the  cause  of  it. 

The  father  of  our  George  was  Richard  Herbert,  the  son  of 
Edward  Herbert,  knight,  the  son  of  Richard  Herbert,  knight,  the 
son  of  the  famous  sir  Richard  Herbert,  of  Colebrook,  in  the 
county  of  Monmouth,  baronet,  who  was  the  youngest  brother  of 
that  memorable  William  Herbert,  earl  of  Pembroke,  that  lived 
in  the  reign  of  our  king  Edward  the  fourth. 

His  mother  was  Magdalen  Newport,  the  youngest  daughter  of 
sir  Richard,  and  sister  to  sir  Francis  Newport,  of  High  Arkall, 
in  the  county  of  Salop,  knight,  and  grandfather  of  Francis,  lord 
Newport  *,  now  comptroller  of  his  majesty's  houshold.  A  family, 
that  for  their  loyalty,  have  suffered  much  in  their  estates,  and 
seen  the  ruin  of  that  excellent  structure,  where  their  ancestors 
have  long  lived,  and  been  memorable  for  their  hospitality. 

1  Francis,  lord  Newport.']  Afterwards,  in  1675,  created  Viscount  Newport, 
and  in  1694,  earl  of  Bradford:  which  titles,  extinct  in  1762,  were  revived  in 
1815,  in  the  family  of  Bridgman,  connected  with  the  Newports  by  female 


This  mother  of  George  Herbert  (of  whose  person,  and  wisdom 
and  virtue,  I  intend  to  give  a  true  account  in  a  seasonable  place) 
was  the  happy  mother  of  seven  sons,  and  three  daughters,  which 
she  would  often  say,  was  Job's  number,  and  Job's  distribution ; 
and,  as  often  bless  God,  that  they  were  neither  defective  in  their 
shapes,  or  in  their  reason ;  and  very  often  reprove  them  that  did 
not  praise  God  for  so  great  a  blessing.  I  shall  give  the  reader  a 
short  account  of  their  names,  and  not  say  much  of  their  fortunes. 

Edward,  the  eldest,  was  first  made  knight  of  the  bath  at  that 
glorious  time  of  our  late  prince  Henry's  being  installed  knight  of 
the  garter ;  and  after  many  years  useful  travel,  and  the  attain- 
ment of  many  languages,  he  was  by  king  James  sent  ambassador 
resident  to  the  then  French  king,  Lewis  the  thirteenth.  There 
he  continued  about  two  years ;  but,  he  could  not  subject  himself 
to  a  compliance  with  the  humours  of  the  duke  de  Luines,  who 
was  then  the  great  and  powerful  favourite  at  court ;  so  that  upon 
a  complaint  to  our  king,  he  was  called  back  into  England  in  some 
displeasure ;  but  at  his  return  he  gave  such  an  honourable  account 
of  his  employment,  and  so  justified  his  comportment  to  the  duke, 
and  all  the  court,  that  he  was  suddenly  sent  back  upon  the  same 
embassy,  from  which  he  returned  in  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of 
our  good  king  Charles  the  first,  who  made  him  first  baron  of 
Castle- Island 2,  and  not  long  after 3  of  Cherbury,  in  the  county  of 
Salop.  He  was  a  man  of  great  learning  and  reason,  as  appears 
by  his  printed  book  de  veritate ;  and  by  his  History  of  the  Reign 
of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  by  several  other  tracts. 

The  second  and  third  brothers  were  Richard  and  William,  who 
ventured  their  lives  to  purchase  honour  in  the  wars  of  the  Low 
Countries,  and  died  officers  in  that  employment.  Charles  was 
the  fourth,  and  died  fellow  of  New-college  in  Oxford.  Henry  was 
the  sixth,  who  became  a  menial  servant  to  the  crown  in  the  days 
of  king  James,  and  hath  continued  to  be  so  for  fifty  years: 
during  all  which  time  he  hath  been  master  of  the  revels ;  a  place 
that  requires  a  diligent  wisdom,  with  which  God  hath  blest  him. 
The  seventh  son  was  Thomas,  who  being  made  captain  of  a  ship 
in  that  fleet  with  which  sir  Robert  Mansel  was  sent  against 
Algiers 4,  did  there  shew  a  fortunate  and  true  English  valour.  Of 
the  three  sisters,  I  need  not  say  more,  than  tliat  they  were  all 

3  Baron  of  Castle- Island '.]  In  Ireland.       3  Not  long  after.]  May  7,  1629. 
4  Against  Algiers.']  In  1620. 


married  to  persons  of  worth,  and  plentiful  fortunes ;  and  lived  to 
be  examples  of  virtue,  and  to  do  good  in  their  generations. 

I  now  come  to  give  my  intended  account  of  George,  who  was 
the  fifth  of  those  seven  brothers. 

George  Herbert  spent  much  of  his  childhood  in  a  sweet  content 
under  the  eye  and  care  of  his  prudent  mother,  and  the  tuition  of 
a  chaplain  or  tutor  to  him,  and  two  of  his  brothers,  in  her  own 
family  (for  she  was  then  a  widow)  where  he  continued,  till  about 
the  age  of  twelve  years ;  and  being  at  that  time  well  instructed 
in  the  rules  of  grammar,  he  was  not  long  after  commended  to  the 
care  of  Dr.  Neale,  who  was  then  dean  of  Westminster ;  and  by 
him  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Ireland,  who  was  then  chief  master  of  that 
school ;  where  the  beauties  of  his  pretty  behaviour  and  wit  shined 
and  became  so  eminent  and  lovely  in  this  his  innocent  age,  that 
he  seemed  to  be  marked  out  for  piety,  and  to  become  the  care  of 
heaven,  and  of  a  particular  good  angel  to  guard  and  guide  him. 
And  thus  he  continued  in  that  school,  till  he  came  to  be  perfect 
in  the  learned  languages,  and  especially  in  the  Greek  tongue,  in 
which  he  after  proved  an  excellent  critic. 

About  the  age  of  fifteen  (he  being  then  a  king's  scholar,)  he 
was  elected  out  of  that  school  for  Trinity  college  in  Cambridge,  to 
which  place  he  was  transplanted  about  the  year  1608;  and  his 
prudent  mother  well  knowing,  that  he  might  easily  lose,  or  lessen 
that  virtue  and  innocence  which  her  advice  and  example  had 
planted  in  his  mind,  did  therefore  procure  the  generous  and 
liberal  Dr.  Nevil 5,  who  was  then  dean  of  Canterbury,  and  master 
of  that  college,  to  take  him  into  his  particular  care,  and  pro- 
vide him  a  tutor ;  which  he  did  most  gladly  undertake,  for  he 
knew  the  excellencies  of  his  mother,  and  how  to  value  such  a 

This  was  the  method  of  his  education,  till  he  was  settled  in 
Cambridge ;  where  we  will  leave  him  in  his  study,  till  I  have  paid 
my  promised  account  of  his  excellent  mother ;  and  I  will  endea- 
vour to  make  it  short. 

I  have  told  her  birth,  her  marriage,  and  the  number  of  her 
children,  and  have  given  some  short  account  of  them.  I  shall 
next  tell  the  reader,  that  her  husband  died  when  our  George  was 
about  the  age  of  four  years.  I  am  next  to  tell  that  she  continued 

6  Dr.  Nevil.']  Whose  life  has  been  written  by  the  late  archdeacon  J.  H. 
Todd,  amongst  those  of  the  other  deans  of  Canterbury. 


twelve  years  a  widow :  that  she  then  married  happily  to  a  noble 
gentleman8,  the  brother  and  heir  of  the  lord  Danvers  earl  of 
Danby,  who  did  highly  value  both  her  person  and  the  most  excel- 
lent endowments  of  her  mind. 

In  this  time  of  her  widowhood,  she  being  desirous  to  give 
Edward  her  eldest  son,  such  advantages  of  learning,  and  other 
education  as  might  suit  his  birth  and  fortune,  and  thereby  make 
him  the  more  fit  for  the  service  of  his  country,  did  at  his  being  of 
a  fit  age,  remove  from  Montgomery  castle  with  him,  and  some  of 
her  younger  sons  to  Oxford7;  and,  having  entered  Edward  into 
Queen's  college,  and  provided  him  a  fit  tutor,  she  commended  him 
to  his  care;  yet,  she  continued  there  with  him,  and  still  kept 
him  in  a  moderate  awe  of  herself;  and  so  much  under  her  own 
eyes,  as  to  see  and  converse  with  him  daily ;  but  she  managed 
this  power  over  him  without  any  such  rigid  sourness,  as  might 
make  her  company  a  torment  to  her  child;  but,  with  such  a 
sweetness  and  compliance  with  the  recreations  and  pleasures  of 
youth,  as  did  incline  him  willingly  to  spend  much  of  his  time  in 

6  A  noble  gentleman."}  Sir  John  Danvers,  who  was  of  very  different  opinions 
from  his  brother,  the  loyal  earl  of  Danby.    He  was  member  for  the  university 
of  Oxford  in  the  last  two  parliaments  of  Charles  I.,  and  when  the  troubles 
began  he  became  an  open  enemy  to  the  king,  taking  a  commission  as  colonel 
in  the  parliamentary  army.     He  sat  as  one  of  the  judges  on  the  trial  of 
Charles  I.,  and  signed  the  warrant  for  his  execution.     Lord  Clarendon  says 
of  him,  "  Between  being  seduced,  and  a  seducer,  he  became  so  far  involved  in 
their  councils,  that  he  suffered  himself  to  be  applied  to  their  worst  offices, 
taking  it  to  be  a  high  honor  to  sit  upon  the  same  bench  with  Cromwell,  who 
employed  and  contemned  him  at  once.    Nor  did  that  party  of  miscreants  look 
upon  any  two  men  in  the  kingdom  with  that  scorn  and  detestation  as  they 
did  upon  Danvers  and  Mildmay."  His  brother,  the  earl  of  Danby,  disinherited 
him,  but  the  parliament  declared  the  will  to  be  void.     He  died  before  the 
Restoration,  but  his  name  was  inserted  in  the  act  excepting  him  from  pardon, 
as  if  living,  by  which  means  his  wealth  was  lost  to  his  heir.     His  excellent 
wife,  whose  influence  might  have  saved  him,  was  buried  at  Chelsea,  June  8, 
1627;  Dr.  Donne  preached  her  funeral  sermon.     Sir  John  Danvers  had  no 
issue  by  her,  but  by  his  second  wife  Elizabeth,  grandchild  and  heir  of  sir 
John  Dauntsey  of  Lavington  in  Wiltshire,  he  had  a  daughter  Elizabeth, 
wife  of  the  notorious  Robert  Villiers,  second  Viscount  Purbeck,  who  professed 
hatred  to  the  name  of  Villiers,  and  took  the  name  of  Danvers.    Their  de- 
scendants claimed  unsuccessfully  the  earldom  of  Buckingham. 

7  To  Oxford.']  "  For  their  education  she  went  and  dwelt  in  the  university, 
to  recompence  the  loss  of  their  father  "  (as  Barnabas  Oley  prettily  expresses 
it)  "  by  giving  them  two  mothers." — Life  of  Mr.  George  Herbert,  signat.  K  9, 
subjoined  to  his  Country  Parson. 


the  company  of  his  dear  and  careful  mother ;  which  was  to  her 
great  content;  for,  she  would  often  say,  "That  as  our  bodies 
take  a  nourishment  suitable  to  the  meat  on  which  we  feed ;  so, 
our  souls  do  as  insensibly  take  in  vice  by  the  example  or  conver- 
sation with  wicked  company :"  and,  would  therefore,  as  often  say, 
"  That  ignorance  of  vice  was  the  best  preservation  of  virtue  :  and, 
that  the  very  knowledge  of  wickedness  was  as  tinder  to  inflame 
and  kindle  sin,  and  to  keep  it  burning."  For  these  reasons  she 
endeared  him  to  her  own  company ;  and  continued  with  him  in 
Oxford  four  years :  in  which  time,  her  great  and  harmless  wit, 
her  cheerful  gravity,  and  her  obliging  behaviour,  gained  her  an 
acquaintance  and  friendship  with  most  of  any  eminent  worth  and 
learning,  that  were  at  that  time  in  or  near  that  university ;  and 
particularly,  with  Mr.  John  Donne,  who  then  came  accidentally 
to  that  place,  in  this  time  of  her  being  there  :  it  was  that  John 
Donne  who  was  after  doctor  Donne,  and  dean  of  Saint  Pauls, 
London :  and  he  at  his  leaving  Oxford,  writ  and  left  there  in  verse 
a  character  of  the  beauties  of  her  body  and  mind.  Of  the  first, 
he  says, 

"  No  spring  nor  summer-beauty,  has  such  grace 
As  I  have  seen  in  an  autumnal  face." 

Of  the  latter  he  says, 

"  In  all  her  words  to  every  hearer  fit 
You  may  at  revels,  or  at  council  sit." 

The  rest  of  her  character  may  be  read  in  his  printed  poems, 
in  that  elegy  which  bears  the  name  of  the  Autumnal  Beauty. 
For  both  he  and  she  were  then  past  the  meridian  of  man's  life. 

This  amity,  begun  at  this  time,  and  place,  was  not  an  amity 
that  polluted  their  souls ;  but,  an  amity  made  up  of  a  chain  of 
suitable  inclinations  and  virtues  ;  an  amity,  like  that  of  St.  Chry- 
sostonVs  to  his  dear  and  virtuous  Olympias ;  whom,  in  his  letter 
he  calls  his  saint :  or,  an  amity  indeed  more  like  that  of  St. 
Hierom  to  his  Paula ;  whose  affection  to  her  was  such,  that  he 
turned  poet  in  his  old  age,  and  then  made  her  epitaph ;  wishing 
all  his  body  were  turned  into  tongues,  that  he  might  declare  her 

just  praises  to  posterity. And  this  amity  betwixt  her  and  Mr. 

Donne,  was  begun  in  a  happy  time  for  him,  he  being  then  near  to 
the  fortieth  year  of  his  age  (which  was  some  years  before  he 


entered  into  sacred  orders)  :  a  time,  when  his  necessities  needed 
a  daily  supply  for  the  support  of  his  wife,  seven  children,  and  a 
family  :  and  in  this  time  she  proved  one  of  his  most  bountiful 
benefactors :  and  he,  as  grateful  an  acknowledger  of  it.  You 
may  take  one  testimony  for  what  I  have  said  of  these  two  worthy 
persons,  from  this  following  letter,  and  sonnet. 

u  Madam, 

"  Your  favours  to  me  are  every  where :  I  use  them,  and  have 
them.  I  enjoy  them  at  London,  and  leave  them  there  ;  and  yet, 
find  them  at  Mitcham.  Such  riddles  as  these  become  things 
unexpressible,  and,  such  is  your  goodness.  I  was  almost  sorry  to 
find  your  servant  here  this  day,  because  I  was  loth  to  have  any 
witness  of  my  not  coming  home  last  night,  and  indeed  of  my 
coming  this  morning  :  but,  my  not  coming  was  excusable,  because 
earnest  business  detained  me  ;  and  my  coming  this  day,  is  by  the 
example  of  your  St.  Mary  Magdalen,  who  rose  early  upon  Sun- 
day, to  seek  that  which  she  loved  most ;  and  so  did  I.  And, 
from  her  and  myself,  I  return  such  thanks  as  are  due  to  one  to 
whom  we  owe  all  the  good  opinion,  that  they  whom  we  need  most, 
have  of  us. By  this  messenger,  and  on  this  good  day,  I  com- 
mit the  inclosed  holy  hymns  and  sonnets  (which  for  the  matter, 
not  the  workmanship,  have  yet  escaped  the  fire)  to  your  judg- 
ment, and  to  your  protection  too,  if  you  think  them  worthy  of  it : 
and  I  have  appointed  this  inclosed  sonnet  to  usher  them  to  your 
happy  hand. 

"  Your  unworthiest  servant, 

"  unless,  your  accepting  him  to  be  so, 
"  have  mended  him, 

"Mitcham,  July  11,  1607.  "Jo.  DONNE." 

To  the  Lady  Magdalen  Herbert ;  of  St.  Mary  Magdx!,  i> . 

Her  of  your  name,  whose  fair  inheritance 

Hethina  was,  and  jointure  Magdalo ; 
An  active  faith  so  highly  did  advance, 

That  she  once  knew,  more  than  the  church  did  know, 
The  resurrection ;  so  much  good  there  is 

Deliver'd  of  her,  that  some  fathers  be 
Loth  to  believe  one  woman  could  do  this ; 

But,  think  these  Magdalens  were  two  or  three. 


Increase  their  number,  lady,  and  their  fame  : 

To  their  devotion  and  your  innocence  : 
Take  so  much  of  th'  example,  as  of  the  name ; 

The  latter  half;  and  in  some  recompence 
That  they  did  harbour  Christ  himself,  a  guest, 
Harbour  these  hymns,  to  his  dear  name  addrest. 

J.  D. 

These  hymns  are  now  lost  to  us ;  but,  doubtless,  they  were 
such,  as  they  two  now  sing  in  heaven. 

There  might  be  more  demonstrations  of  the  friendship,  and  the 
many  sacred  endearments  betwixt  these  two  excellent  persons  (for 
I  have  many  of  their  letters  in  my  hand)  and  much  more  might 
be  said  of  her  great  prudence  and  piety  :  but,  my  design  was  not 
to  write  her's,  but  the  life  of  her  son  ;  and  therefore  I  shall  only 
tell  my  reader,  that  about  that  very  day  twenty  years  that  this 
letter  was  dated,  and  sent  her,  I  saw  and  heard  this  Mr.  John 
Donne,  (who  was  then  dean  of  St.  Paul's)  weep,  and  preach  her 
funeral  sermon,  in  the  parish-church  of  Chelsea  near  London, 
where  she  now  rests  in  her  quiet  grave  :  and,  where  we  must  now 
leave  her,  and  return  to  her  son  George,  whom  we  left  in  his 
study  in  Cambridge. 

And  in  Cambridge  we  may  find  our  George  Herbert's  behaviour 
to  be  such,  that  we  may  conclude,  he  consecrated  the  first-fruits 
of  his  early  age  to  virtue,  and  a  serious  study  of  learning.  And 
that  he  did  so,  this  following  letter  and  sonnet  which  were  in  the 
first  year  of  his  going  to  Cambridge  sent  his  dear  mother  for  a 
new-year's  gift,  may  appear  to  be  some  testimony. 

— "  But  I  fear  the  heat  of  my  late  ague  hath  dried  up  those 
springs,  by  which  scholars  say,  the  Muses  use  to  take  up  their 
habitations.  However,  I  need  not  their  help,  to  reprove  the 
vanity  of  those  many  love-poems,  that  are  daily  writ  and  conse- 
crated to  Venus ;  nor  to  bewail  that  so  few  are  writ,  that  look 
towards  God  and  heaven.  For  my  own  part,  my  meaning  (dear 
mother)  is  in  these  sonnets,  to  declare  my  resolution  to  be,  that 
my  poor  abilities  in  poetry,  shall  be  all,  and  ever  consecrated  to 
God's  glory  :  and  I  beg  you  to  receive  this  as  one  testimony." 

My  God,  where  is  that  ancient  heat  towards  thee, 
Wherewith  whole  shoals  of  martyrs  once  did  burn, 

Besides  their  other  flames  ?     Doth  poetry 
Wear  Venus'  livery  ?  only  serve  her  turn  ? 


Why  are  not  sonnets  made  of  thee  ?  and  lays 

Upon  thine  altar  burnt  ?     Cannot  thy  love 
Heighten  a  spirit  to  sound  out  thy  praise 

As  well  as  any  she  ?     Cannot  thy  dove 
Out-strip  their  Cupid  easily  in  flight  ? 

Or,  since  thy  ways  are  deep,  and  still  the  same, 

Will  not  a  verse  run  smooth  that  bears  thy  name ! 
Why  doth  that  fire,  which  by  thy  power  and  might 

Each  breast  does  feel,  no  braver  fuel  choose 

Than  that,  which  one  day  worms  may  chance  refuse  ? 
Sure,  Lord,  there  is  enough  in  thee  to  dry 

Oceans  of  ink ;  for,  as  the  deluge  did 
Cover  the  earth,  so  doth  thy  majesty : 

Each  cloud  distils  thy  praise,  and  doth  forbid 
Poets  to  turn  it  to  another  use. 

Roses  and  lilies  speak  thee ;  and  to  make 
A  pair  of  cheeks  of  them,  is  thy  abuse. 

Why  should  I  women's  eyes  for  chrystal  take  ? 
Such  poor  invention  burns  in  their  low  mind 

Whose  fire  is  wild,  and  doth  not  upward  go 

To  praise,  and  on  thee,  Lord,  some  ink  bestow. 
Open  the  bones,  and  you  shall  nothing  find 

In  the  best  face  but  filth ;  when,  Lord,  in  thee 

The  beauty  lies,  in  the  discovery. 

G.  H. 

This  was  his  resolution  at  the  sending  this  letter  to  his  dear 
mother  ;  about  which  time,  he  was  in  the  seventeenth  year  of  his 
age  :  and  as  he  grew  older,  so  he  grew  in  learning,  and  more  and 
more  in  favour  both  with  God  and  man  ;  insomuch,  that  in  this 
morning  of  that  short  day  of  his  life,  he  seemed  to  be  marked  out 
for  virtue,  and  to  become  the  care  of  heaven ;  for  God  still  kept 
his  soul  in  so  holy  a  frame,  that  he  may,  and  ought  to  be  a  pattern 
of  virtue  to  all  posterity,  and  especially,  to  his  brethren  of  the 
clergy ;  of  which  the  reader  may  expect  a  more  exact  account  in 
what  will  follow. 

I  need  not  declare  that  he  was  a  strict  student,  because,  that 
he  was  so,  there  will  be  many  testimonies  in  the  future  part  of  liis 
life.  I  shall  therefore  only  tell,  that  he  was  made  batchelor  of 
arts  in  the  year  1611  ;  major  fellow  of  the  college,  March  15, 
1615 ;  and  that,  in  that  year,  he  was  also  made  master  of  arts, 
he  being  then  in  the  22d  year  of  his  age  ;  during  all  which  time. 
all,  or  the  greatest  diversion  from  his  study,  was  the  practice  of 
music,  in  which  he  became  a  great  master ;  and  of  which,  he 
would  say,  "  That  it  did  relieve  his  drooping  spirits,  compose  his 


distracted  thoughts,  and  raised  his  weary  soul  so  far  above  earth, 
that  it  gave  him  an  earnest  of  the  joys  of  heaven,"  before  he  pos- 
sest  them.  And  it  may  be  noted,  that  from  his  first  entrance 
into  the  college,  the  generous  Dr.  Nevil  was  a  cherisher  of  his 
studies,  and  such  a  lover  of  his  person,  his  behaviour,  and  the 
excellent  endowments  of  his  mind,  that  he  took  him  often  into 
his  own  company  !  by  which  he  confirmed  his  native  gentleness. 
And  if  during  this  time  he  exprest  any  error,  it  was  that  he  kept 
himself  too  much  retired,  and  at  too  great  a  distance  with  all  his 
inferiors  ;  and  his  cloaths  seemed  to  prove  that  he  put  too  great 
a  value  on  his  parts  and  parentage. 

This  may  be  some  account  of  his  disposition,  and  of  the 
employment  of  his  time  till  he  was  master  of  arts,  which  was 
anno  1615,  and  in  the  year  1619  he  was  chosen  orator  for  the 
university.  His  two  precedent  orators  were  sir  Robert  Nanton 
and  sir  Francis  Nethersoll.  The  first  was  not  long  after  made 
secretary  of  state  ;  and  sir  Francis,  not  very  long  after  his  being 
orator,  was  made  secretary  to  the  lady  Elizabeth,  queen  of 
Bohemia.  In  this  place  of  orator  our  George  Herbert  con- 
tinued eight  years,  and  managed  it  with  as  becoming  and  grave  a 
gaiety  as  any  had  ever  before  or  since  his  time.  For  he  had 
acquired  great  learning,  and  was  blest  with  a  high  fancy,  a  civil 
and  sharp  wit,  and  with  a  natural  elegance  both  in  his  behaviour, 
his  tongue,  and  his  pen.  Of  all  which  there  might  be  very  many 
particular  evidences ;  but  I  will  limit  myself  to  the  mention  of 
but  three. 

And  the  first  notable  occasion  of  shewing  his  fitness  for  this 
employment  of  orator  was  manifested  in  a  letter  to  King  James, 
upon  the  occasion  of  his  sending  that  university  his  book,  called 
Basilicon  Doron 8 ;  and  their  orator  was  to  acknowledge  this  great 
honour,  and  return  their  gratitude  to  his  majesty  for  such  a 
condescension  ;  at  the  close  of  which  letter  he  writ, 

"  Quid  Vaticanam  Bodleianamque  objicis  hospes  ! 
Unicus  est  nobis  bibliotheca  liber." 

This  letter  was  writ  in  such  excellent  Latin,  was  so  full  of 
conceits,  and  all  the  expressions  so  suited  to  the  genius  of  the 
king,  that  he  inquired  the  orator's  name,  and  then  asked  William 

8  Basilicon  Doron.']  The  original,  written  in  James's  own  hand,  is  preserved 
amongst  the  royal  manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum. 


earl  of  Pembroke  if  lie  knew  him  ?  whose  answer  was,  "  That  he 
knew  him  very  well,  and  that  he  was  his  kinsman ;  but  he  loved 
him  more  for  his  learning  and  virtue  than  for  that  he  was  of  his 
name  and  family."  At  which  answer  the  king  smiled,  and  asked 
the  earl  leave  "that  he  might  love  him  too  ;  for  he  took  him  to 
be  the  jewel  of  that  university." 

The  next  occasion  he  had  and  took  to  shew  his  great  abilities 
was,  with  them,  to  shew  also  his  great  affection  to  that  church  in 
which  he  received  his  baptism,  and  of  which  he  profest  himself  a 
member;  and  the  occasion  was  this.  There  was  one  Andrew 
Melvin9,  a  minister  of  the  Scotch  church,  and  rector  of  St. 
AndrewX  who,  by  a  long  and  constant  converse  with  a  discon- 
tented part  of  that  clergy  which  opposed  episcopacy,  became  at 
last  to  be  a  chief  leader  of  that  faction ;  and  had  proudly  ap- 
peared to  be  so  to  king  James,  when  he  was  but  king  of  that 
nation ;  who  the  second  year  after  his  coronation  in  England 
convened  a  part  of  the  bishops  and  other  learned  divines  of  his 
church  to  attend  him  at  Hampton  Court,  in  order  to  a  friendly 
conference  with  some  dissenting  brethren,  both  of  this  and  the 
church  of  Scotland  ;  and  he  being  a  man  of  learning,  and  inclined 
to  satirical  poetry,  had  scattered  many  malicious  bitter  verses 
against  our  liturgy,  our  ceremonies,  and  our  church  government ; 
which  were  by  some  of  that  party  so  magnified  for  the  wit,  that 
they  were  therefore  brought  into  Westminster  school,  where 
Mr.  George  Herbert  then,  and  often  after,  made  such  answers 
to  them,  and  such  reflexion  on  him  and  his  kirk,  as  might 
unbeguile  any  man  that  was  not  too  deeply  pre-engaged  in  such 

a  quarrel. But  to  return  to  Mr.  Melvin  at  Hampton  Court 

conference  :  he  there  appeared  to  be  a  man  of  an  unruly  wit,  of  a 
strange  confidence,  of  so  furious  a  zeal,  and  of  so  ungoverned 
passions,  that  his  insolence  to  the  king  and  others  at  this  con- 
ference lost  him  both  his  rectorship  of  St.  Andrew"^  and  his 
liberty  too  ;  for  his  former  verses,  and  his  present  reproaches 
there  used  against  the  church  and  state,  caused  him  to  be  com- 
mitted prisoner  to  the  Tower  of  London,  where  he  remained 
very  angry  for  three  years.  At  which  time  of  his  commitment 
he  found  the  lady  Arabella  l  an  innocent  prisoner  there  ;  and  he 
pleased  himself  much  in  sending,  the  next  day  after  his  commit- 

9  Melvin.']  Or  Melville,  the  follower  and  successor  of  John  Knox. 
1  The  lady  Arabella.']  Lady  Arabella  Stuart. 


ment,  these  two  verses  to  the  good  lady 2,  which  I  will  under- 
write, because  they  may  give  the  reader  a  taste  of  his  others, 
which  were  like  these 3. 

"  Causa  tibi  mecum  est  communis  carceris,  Ara- 
Bella  tibi  causa  est,  Araque  sacra  mini." 

I  shall  not  trouble  my  reader  with  an  account  of  his  enlarge- 
ment from  that  prison,  or  his  death  ;  but  tell  him,  Mr.  Herbert's 
verses  were  thought  so  worthy  to  be  preserved,  that  Dr.  Duport, 
the  learned  dean  of  Peterborough,  hath  lately  collected,  and 
caused  many  of  them  to  be  printed,  as  an  honourable  memorial 
of  his  friend  Mr.  George  Herbert  and  the  cause  he  undertook. 

And  in  order  to  my  third  and  last  observation  of  his  great 
abilities,  it  will  be  needful  to  declare,  that  about  this  time  king 
James  came  very  often  to  hunt  at  New- Market  and  Royston  ; 
and  was  almost  as  often  invited  to  Cambridge,  where  his  enter- 
tainment was  comedies  suited  to  his  pleasant  humour,  and  where 
Mr.  George  Herbert  was  to  welcome  him  with  gratulations,  and 
the  applauses  of  an  orator ;  which  he  always  performed  so  well 
that  he  still  grew  more  into  the  king's  favour,  insomuch  that  he 
had  a  particular  appointment  to  attend  his  majesty  at  Royston, 
where,  after  a  discourse  with  him,  his  majesty  declared  to  his 
kinsman,  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  "  That  he  found  the  orator's 
learning  and  wisdom  much  above  his  age  or  wit."  The  year 
following,  the  king  appointed  to  end  his  progress  at  Cambridge, 
and  to  stay  there  certain  days ;  at  which  time  he  was  attended 
by  the  great  secretary  of  nature  and  all  learning,  sir  Francis 
Bacon  (lord  Verulam)  and  by  the  ever  memorable  and  learned 
Dr.  Andrews,  bishop  of  Winchester,  both  of  which  did  at  that 
time  begin  a  desired  friendship  with  our  orator.  Upon  whom  the 
first  put  such  a  value  on  his  judgment,  that  he  usually  desired  his 
approbation  before  he  would  expose  any  of  his  books  to  be 

2  To  the  good  lady.']  Rather  to  her  husband,  William  Seymour,  afterwards 
marquis  of  Hertford,  who,  as  it  is  well  known,  was  imprisoned  for  marrying 
her  without  the  king's  consent.    Arabella  Stuart  was  first  cousin  to  James  I., 
who  was  jealous,  and  not  without  reason,  of  her  rights  to  the  throne  of  England. 
Her  story  is  best  told  by  lady  Theresa  Lewis  in  The  Gallery  of  Lord  Chancellor 
Clarendon  and  his  Contemporaries,  vol.  i. 

3  Like  these.']  Fuller,  in  his  Church  History,  gives  the  lines  thus  : 

"  Causa  mihi  tecum  communis  carceris,  Ara 
Regia  Bella  tibi,  regia  sacra  mihi." 


printed ;  and  thought  him  so  worthy  of  his  friendship,  that 
having  translated  many  of  the  prophet  David's  Psalms  into 
English  verse,  he  made  George  Herbert  his  patron,  by  a  public 
dedication  of  them  to  him,  as  the  best  judge  of  divine  poetry. 
And  for  the  learned  bishop,  it  is  observable  that  at  that  time 
there  fell  to  be  a  modest  debate  betwixt  them  two,  about  predes- 
tination and  sanctity  of  life ;  of  both  which  the  orator  did  not 
long  after  send  the  bishop  some  safe  and  useful  aphorisms,  in  a 
long  letter  written  in  Greek ;  which  letter  was  so  remarkable  for 
the  language  and  reason  of  it,  that  after  the  reading  it,  the  bishop 
put  it  into  his  bosom,  and  did  often  shew  it  to  many  scholars, 
both  of  this  and  foreign  nations  ;  but  did  always  return  it  back  to 
the  place  where  he  first  lodged  it,  and  continued  it  so  near  his 
heart  till  the  last  day  of  his  life. 

To  these  I  might  add  the  long  and  entire  friendship  betwixt 
him  and  sir  Henry  Wotton,  and  doctor  Donne,  but  I  have  pro- 
mised to  contract  myself,  and  shall  therefore  only  add  one  testi- 
mony to  what  is  also  mentioned 4  in  the  life  of  doctor  Donne  ; 
namely,  that  a  little  before  his  death  he  caused  many  seals  to  be 
made,  and  in  them  to  be  engraven  the  figure  of  Christ  crucified 
on  an  anchor  (the  emblem  of  hope,)  and  of  which  Dr.  Donne 

would  often  say,  Crux  mihi  ancliora. These  seals  he  gave  or 

sent  to  most  of  those  friends  on  which  he  put  a  value ;  and  at 
Mr.  Herberts  death  these  verses  were  found  wrapt  up  with  that 
seal  which  was  by  the  doctor  given  to  him. 

"  When  my  dear  friend  could  write  no  more, 
He  gave  this  seal,  and  so  gave  o'er. 

"  When  winds  and  waves  rise  highest,  I  am  sure, 
This  anchor  keeps  my  faith,  that  me  secure." 

At  this  time  of  being  orator  he  had  learnt  to  understand  the 
Italian,  Spanish,  and  French  tongues  very  perfectly ;  hoping  that 
as  his  predecessors,  so  he  might  in  time  attain  the  place  of  a 
secretary  of  state,  he  being  at  that  time  very  high  in  the  king^s 
favour,  and  not  meanly  valued  and  loved  by  the  most  eminent 
and  most  powerful  of  the  court  nobility.  This,  and  the  love  of  a 
court  conversation,  mixt  with  a  laudable  ambition  to  be  some- 
thing more  than  he  then  was,  drew  him  often  from  Cambridge  to 
attend  the  king  wheresoever  the  court  was,  who  then  gave  him  a 

4  Alto  mentioned.]  At  vol.  iii.  p.  6G7,  and  also,  in  the  Life  of  Hooker,  p.  540,  n. 


sinecure  5,  which  fell  into  his  majesty's  disposal,  I  think,  by  the 
death  of  the  bishop  of  St.  Asaph.  It  was  the  same  that  queen 
Elizabeth  had  formerly  given  to  her  favourite  sir  Philip  Sidney, 
and  valued  to  be  worth  an  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  per 
annum.  With  this,  and  his  annuity,  and  the  advantage  of  his 
college,  and  of  his  oratorship,  he  enjoyed  his  genteel  humour  for 
cloaths  and  court-like  company,  and  seldom  looked  towards 
Cambridge,  unless  the  king  were  there,  but  then  he  never  failed  ; 
and  at  other  times  left  the  manage  of  his  orator's  place  to  his 
learned  friend  Mr.  Herbert  Thorndike,  who  is  now  prebend  of 

I  may  not  omit  to  tell,  that  he  had  often  designed  to  leave  the 
university,  and  decline  all  study,  which  he  thought  did  impair  his 
health ;  for  he  had  a  body  apt  to  a  consumption,  and  to  fevers, 
and  to  other  infirmities,  which  he  judged  were  increased  by  his 
studies ;  for  he  would  often  say,  "  He  had  too  thoughtful  a 
wit :  a  wit,  like  a  pen-knife  in  too  narrow  a  sheath,  too  sharp 
for  his  body."  But  his  mother  would  by  no  means  allow  him  to 
leave  the  university  or  to  travel ;  and  though  he  inclined  very 
much  to  both,  yet  he  would  by  no  means  satisfy  his  own  desires 
at  so  dear  a  rate  as  to  prove  an  undutiful  son  to  so  affectionate  a 
mother,  but  did  always  submit  to  her  wisdom.  And  what  I  have 
now  said  may  partly  appear  in  a  copy  of  verses  in  his  printed 
poems  ;  it  is  one  of  those  that  bears  the  title  of  Affliction :  and 
it  appears  to  be  a  pious  reflection  on  God's  providence,  and  some 
passages  of  his  life,  in  which  he  says, 

Whereas  my  birth  and  spirit  rather  took 

The  way  that  takes  the  town  : 
Thou  didst  betray  me  to  a  ling'ring  book, 

And  wrap  me  in  a  gown  : 
I  was  entangled  in  the  world  of  strife 
Before  I  had  the  power  to  change  my  life. 

Yet,  for  I  threatened  oft  the  siege  to  raise, 

Not  simp'ring  all  mine  age  : 
Thou  often  didst  with  academic  praise, 

Melt  and  dissolve  my  rage : 
I  took  the  sweetened  pill,  till  I  came  where 
I  could  not  go  away  nor  persevere. 

3  A  sinecure.~]  The  place  of  cup-bearer  to  the  king. 
VOL.  iv. 


Yet,  least  perchance  I  should  too  happy  be 

In  my  unhappiness, 
Turning  my  purge  to  food,  thou  throwest  me 

Into  more  sicknesses. 

Thus  doth  thy  power  cross-bias  me,  not  making 
Thine  own  gifts  good,  yet  me  from  my  ways  taking. 

Now  I  am  here,  what  thou  wilt  do  with  me 

None  of  my  books  will  shew  : 
I  read,  and  sigh,  and  wish  I  were  a  tree, 

For  then  sure  I  should  grow 
To  fruit  or  shade ;  at  least,  some  bird  would  trust 
Her  houshold  with  me,  and  I  would  be  just. 

Yet,  though  thou  troublest  me,  I  must  be  meek  ; 

In  weakness  must  be  stout : 
Well,  I  will  change  my  service,  and  go  seek 

Some  other  master  out : 
Ah,  my  dear  God !  though  I  am  clean  forgot, 
Let  me  not  love  thee,  if  I  love  thee  not. 

G.  H. 

In  this  time  of  Mr.  Herberts  attendance  and  expectation  of 
some  good  occasion  to  remove  from  Cambridge  to  court ;  God,  in 
whom  there  is  an  unseen  chain  of  causes,  did  in  a  short  time  put 
an  end  to  the  lives  of  two  of  his  most  obliging  and  most  power- 
ful friends,  Lodowick  duke  of  Richmond 6,  and  James  marquis  of 
Hamilton7;  and  not  long  after  him,  king  James8  died  also,  and 
with  them,  all  Mr.  Herbert's  court  hopes :  so  that  he  presently 
betook  himself  to  a  retreat  from  London,  to  a  friend  in  Kent, 
where  he  lived  very  privately,  and  was  such  a  lover  of  solitariness 
as  was  judged  to  impair  his  health  more  than  his  study  had  done. 
In  this  manner  of  retirement  he  had  many  conflicts  with  himself, 
whether  he  should  return  to  the  painted  pleasures  of  a  court  life, 
or  betake  himself  to  a  study  of  divinity,  and  enter  into  sacred 
orders?  (to  which  his  dear  mother  had  often  persuaded  him.) 
These  were  such  conflicts  as  those  only  can  know  that  have  en- 
dured them ;  for  ambitious  desires  and  the  outward  glory  of  this 
world  are  not  easily  laid  aside;  but  at  last  God  inclined  him  to 
put  on  a  resolution  to  serve  at  his  altar. 

He  did  at  his  return  to  London  acquaint  a  court  friend  with 

6  Duke  of  Richmond.']  Died  Feb.  16,  1624-5. 

7  Marquis  of  Hamilton.]  Died  March  3,  1624-5. 

8  King  James.]  Died  March  27,  1625. 


his  resolution  to  enter  into  sacred  orders,  who  persuaded  him  to 
alter  it,  as  too  mean  an  employment 9,  and  too  much  below  his 
birth,  and  the  excellent  abilities  and  endowments  of  his  mind. 
To  whom  he  replied,  "  It  hath  been  formerly  judged  that  the 
domestic  servants  of  the  King  of  Heaven  should  be  of  the 
noblest  families l  on  earth ;  and  though  the  iniquity  of  the  late 
times  have  made  clergymen  meanly  valued,  and  the  sacred  name 
of  priest  contemptible,  yet  I  will  labour  to  make  it  honourable, 
by  consecrating  all  my  learning,  and  all  my  poor  abilities,  to  ad- 
vance the  glory  of  that  God  that  gave  them ;  knowing  that  I  can 
never  do  too  much  for  him  that  hath  done  so  much  for  me  as  to 
make  me  a  Christian.  And  I  will  labour  to  be  like  my  Saviour, 
by  making  humility  lovely  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  and  by  following 
the  merciful  and  meek  example  of  my  dear  Jesus." 

This  was  then  his  resolution,  and  the  God  of  constancy,  who 
intended  him  for  a  great  example  of  virtue,  continued  him  in  it ; 
for  within  that  year  he  was  made  deacon,  but  the  day  when,  or 
by  whom,  I  cannot  learn ;  but  that  he  was  about  that  time  made 
deacon  is  most  certain ;  for  I  find  by  the  records  of  Lincoln, 
that  he  was  made  prebend  of  Lay  ton  Ecclesia 2,  in  the  diocese  of 
Lincoln,  July  15,  1626,  and  that  this  prebend  was  given  him  by 
John 3,  then  lord  bishop  of  that  see.  And  now  he  had  a  fit  occa- 
sion to  shew  that  piety  and  bounty  that  was  derived  from  his 
generous  mother  and  his  other  memorable  ancestors;  and  the 
occasion  was  this. 

This  Layton  Ecclesia  is  a  village  near  to  Spalden4,  in  the  county 
of  Huntingdon,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the  parish  church  was 
fallen  down,  and  that  of  it  which  stood  was  so  decayed,  so  little, 

9  Too  mean  an  employment.']  "And  for  our  author  (The  Sweet  Singer  of  the 
Temple),  though  he  was  one  of  the  most  prudent  and  accomplished  men  of 
his  time,  I  have  heard  sober  men  censure  him,  as  a  man  that  did  not  manage 
his  brave  parts  to  his  best  advantage  and  preferment,  but  lost  himself  in  an 
humble  way.  That  was  the  phrase,  I  well  remember." — Life  of  Mr.  George 
Herbert  by  Barnabas  Oley,  prefixed  to  his  Country  Parson. 

1  Of  the  noblest  families^    Compare  Christian  Institutes,  vol.  iii.  p.  348  ; 
Barrow,  and  n. 

2  Layton  Ecclesia.']  Leighton,  in  Huntingdonshire,  five  and  a  half  miles 
N.E.  of  Kimbolton.     Dr.  Zouch  confounds  it  with  Leighton  Buzzard,  in 
Bedfordshire.     Both  places  are  attached  to  prebends  in  Lincoln. 

3  JohnJ]  John  Williams,  afterwards  archbishop  of  York. 

4  Spalden.']  Or  rather,  Spaldwick,  about  two  miles  from  Leighton.     Spal- 
den, or  Spalding,  is  in  Lincolnshire. 

c  2 


and  so  useless,  that  the  parishioners  could  not  meet  to  perform 
their  duty  to  God  in  public  prayer  and  praises ;  and  thus  it  had 
been  for  almost  twenty  years,  in  which  time  there  had  been  some 
faint  endeavours  for  a  public  collection  to  enable  the  parishioners 
to  rebuild  it,  but  with  no  success  till  Mr.  Herbert  undertook  it ; 
and  he,  by  his  own,  and  the  contribution  of  many  of  his  kindred 
and  other  noble  friends,  undertook  the  re-edification  of  it,  and 
made  it  so  much  his  whole  business,  that  he  became  restless  till  he 
saw  it  finished  as  it  now  stands 5 ;  being,  for  the  workmanship,  a 
costly  mosaic  ;  for  the  form,  an  exact  cross ;  and  for  the  decency 
and  beauty,  I  am  assured  it  is  the  most  remarkable  parish  church 
that  this  nation  affords.  He  lived  to  see  it  so  wainscoated  as  to 
be  exceeded  by  none;  and  by  his  order  the  reading-pew  and 
pulpit  were  a  little  distant  from  each  other,  and  both  of  an  equal 
height ;  for  he  would  often  say,  "  They  should  neither  have  a 
precedency  or  priority  of  the  other ;  but  that  prayer  and  preach- 
ing, being  equally  useful,  might  agree  like  brethren,  and  have  an 
equal  honour  and  estimation/'* 

Before  I  proceed  farther  I  must  look  back  to  the  time  of  Mr. 
Herberts  being  made  prebend,  and  tell  the  reader,  that  not  long 
after,  his  mother  being  informed  of  his  intentions  to  rebuild  that 
church,  and  apprehending  the  great  trouble  and  charge  that  he 
was  like  to  draw  upon  himself,  his  relations,  and  friends  before  it 
could  be  finished,  sent  for  him  from  London  to  Chelsea,  (where 

she  then  dwelt,)  and  at  his  coming,  said "  George,  I  sent  for 

you,  to  persuade  you  to  commit  simony,  by  giving  your  patron  as 
good  a  gift  as  he  has  given  to  you ;  namely,  that  you  give  him 
back  his  prebend ;  for,  George,  it  is  not  for  your  weak  body  and 
empty  purse  to  undertake  to  build  churches."  Of  which  he  de- 
sired he  might  have  a  day's  time  to  consider,  and  then  make  her 
an  answer.  And  at  his  return  to  her  the  next  day,  when  he  had 
first  desired  her  blessing,  and  she  had  given  it  him,  his  next  re- 
quest was,  "  That  she  would,  at  the  age  of  thirty- three  years, 
allow  him  to  become  an  undutiful  son,  for  he  had  made  a  vow  to 
God,  that  if  he  were  able  he  would  rebuild  that  church."  And 
then  shewed  her  such  reasons  for  his  resolution,  that  she  pre- 
sently subscribed  to  be  one  of  his  benefactors,  and  undertook  to 
solicit  William  earl  of  Pembroke  to  become  another,  who  sub- 

5  As  it  now  stands."}  A  view  of  the  church  is  given  in  Dr.  Zouch's  edition 
of  Walton's  Lives,  ii.  54. 


scribed  for  fifty  pounds ;  and  not  long  after,  by  a  witty  and  per- 
suasive letter  from  Mr.  Herbert,  made  it  fifty  pounds  more.  And 
in  this  nomination  of  some  of  his  benefactors,  James  duke  of 
Lenox 6,  and  his  brother  sir  Henry  Herbert,  ought  to  be  remem- 
bered ;  as  also  the  bounty  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Farrer  and  Mr.  Arthur 
Woodnot,  the  one  a  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Layton, 
and  the  other  a  goldsmith  in  Foster-lane,  London,  ought  not  to 
be  forgotten  ;  for  the  memory  of  such  men  ought  to  outlive  their 
lives.  Of  master  Farrer  I  shall  hereafter  give  an  account  in  a 
more  seasonable  place ;  but  before  I  proceed  farther  I  will  give 
this  short  account  of  master  Arthur  Woodnot. 

He  was  a  man  that  had  considered  overgrown  estates  do  often 
require  more  care  and  watchfulness  to  preserve  than  get  them ; 
and  considered  that  there  be  many  discontents  that  riches  cure 
not ;  and  did  therefore  set  limits  to  himself  as  to  desire  of  wealth  : 
and  having  attained  so  much  as  to  be  able  to  shew  some  mercy 
to  the  poor,  and  preserve  a  competence  for  himself,  he  dedicated 
the  remaining  part  of  his  life  to  the  service  of  God,  and  to  be 
useful  for  his  friends ;  and  he  proved  to  be  so  to  Mr.  Herbert ; 
for,  beside  his  own  bounty,  he  collected  and  returned  most  of  the 
money  that  was  paid  for  the  rebuilding  of  that  church ;  he  kept 
all  the  account  of  the  charges,  and  would  often  go  down  to  state 
them,  and  see  all  the  workmen  paid.  When  I  have  said,  that 
this  good  man  was  a  useful  friend  to  Mr.  Herbert's  father,  and  to 
his  mother,  and  continued  to  be  so  to  him  till  he  closed  his  eyes 
on  his  death-bed,  I  will  forbear  to  say  more  till  I  have  the  next 
fair  occasion  to  mention  the  holy  friendship  that  was  betwixt  him 

and  Mr.  Herbert. From  whom  Mr.  Woodnot  carried  to  his 

mother  this  following  letter,  and  delivered  it  to  her  in  a  sickness 
which  was  not  long  before  that  which  proved  to  be  her  last. 

A  Letter  of  Mr.  GEORGE  HERBERT  to  Ms  mother,  in  her  sickness. 


At  my  last  parting  from  you  I  was  the  better  content,  because 
I  was  in  hope  I  should  myself  carry  all  sickness  out  of  your 
family ;  but  since  I  know  I  did  not,  and  that  your  share  con- 
tinues, or  rather  increaseth,  I  wish  earnestly  that  I  were  again 
with  you :  and  would  quickly  make  good  my  wish,  but  that  my 

fl  Duke  of  Lenox.']  Brother  of  Lodowick,  duke  of  Richmond  and  Lenox, 
mentioned  in  p.  18. 


employment  does  fix  me  here,  it  being  now  but  a  month  to  our 
commencement ;  wherein  my  absence  by  how  much  it  naturally 
augmenteth  suspicion,  by  so  much  shall  it  make  my  prayers  the 
more  constant  and  the  more  earnest  for  you  to  the  God  of  all 

consolation In  the  mean  time,  I  beseech  you  to  be  cheerful, 

and  comfort  yourself  in  the  God  of  all  comfort,  who  is  not  willing 

to   behold   any   sorrow   but   for   sin. What   hath   affliction 

grievous  in  it  more  than  for  a  moment  ?  or  why  should  our  afflic- 
tions here  have  so  much  power  or  boldness  as  to  oppose  the  hope 

of  our  joys  hereafter ! Madam  !  as  the  earth  is  but  a  point 

in  respect  of  the  heavens,  so  are  earthly  troubles  compared  to 
heavenly  joys ;  therefore,  if  either  age  or  sickness  lead  you  to 
those  joys,  consider  what  advantage  you  have  over  youth  and 

health,  who  are  now  so  near  those  two  comforts. Your  last 

letter  gave  me  earthly  preferment,  and  I  hope  kept  heavenly  for 
yourself:  but  would  you  divide  and  choose  too?  Our  college 
customs  allow  not  that,  and  I  should  account  myself  most  happy 
if  I  might  change  with  you ;  for  I  have  always  observed  the 
thread  of  life  to  be  like  other  threads  or  skeins  of  silk,  full  of 
snarles  and  incumbrances :  happy  is  he  whose  bottom  is  wound 

up  and  laid  ready  for  use  in  the  New  Jerusalem. For  myself, 

dear  mother,  I  always  feared  sickness  more  than  death,  because 
sickness  hath  made  me  unable  to  perform  those  offices  for  which 
I  came  into  the  world,  and  must  yet  be  kept  in  it ;  but  you  are 
freed  from  that  fear,  who  have  already  abundantly  discharged 
that  part,  having  both  ordered  your  family,  and  so  brought  up 
your  children  that  they  have  attained  to  the  years  of  discretion, 
and  competent  maintenance. — So  that  now  if  they  do  not  well, 
the  fault  cannot  be  charged  on  you,  whose  example  and  care  of 
them  will  justify  you  both  to  the  world  and  your  own  conscience ; 
insomuch  that  whether  you  turn  your  thoughts  on  the  life  past  or 
on  the  joys  that  are  to  come,  you  have  strong  preservatives 

against  all  disquiet. And  for  temporal  afflictions,  I  beseech 

you  consider  all  that  can  happen  to  you  are  either  afflictions  of 

estate,  or  body,  or  mind. For  those  of  estate ;  of  what  poor 

regard  ought  they  to  be,  since  if  we  had  riches  we  are  com- 
manded to  give  them  away  ?  so  that  the  best  use  of  them  is, 
having,  not  to  have  them. But  perhaps  being  above  the  com- 
mon people,  our  credit  and  estimation  calls  on  us  to  live  in  a 
more  splendid  fashion. But,  0  God!  how  r;i>il\  i>  that  an- 
swered, when  we  consider  that  the  blessings  in  the  holy  Scripture 


are  never  given  to  the  rich  but  to  the  poor.  I  never  find,  Blessed 
be  the  rich,  or  Blessed  be  the  noble ;  but  Blessed  be  the  meek, 
and  Blessed  be  the  poor,  and  Blessed  be  the  mourners,  for  they  shall 

be  comforted. And  yet,  0  God  !   most  carry  themselves  so  as 

if  they  not  only  not  desired,  but  even  feared  to  be  blessed. 

And  for  afflictions  of  the  body,  dear  madam,  remember  the  holy 
martyrs  of  God,  how  they  have  been  burnt  by  thousands,  and 
have  endured  such  other  tortures  as  the  very  mention  of  them 
might  beget  amazement ;  but  their  fiery  trials  have  had  an  end ; 
and  yours  (which  praised  be  God  are  less)  are  not  like  to  con- 
tinue long. 1  beseech  you  let  such  thoughts  as  these  moderate 

your  present  fear  and  sorrow ;  and  know,  that  if  any  of  your^s 
should  prove  a  Goliath-like  trouble,  yet  you  may  say  with  David, 
— That  God  who  hath  delivered  me  out  of  the  paws  of  the  lion 
and  bear  will  also  deliver  me  out  of  the  hands  of  this  uncircumcised 

Philistine. Lastly,  for  those  afflictions  of  the  soul :   consider 

that  God  intends  that  to  be  as  a  sacred  temple  for  himself  to 
dwell  in,  and  will  not  allow  any  room  there  for  such  an  inmate 

as  grief,  or  allow  that  any  sadness  shall  be  his  competitor. 

And  above  all,  if  any  care  of  future  things  molest  you,  remember 
those  admirable  words  of  the  psalmist :  Cast  thy  care  on  the  Lord, 
and  he  shall  nourish  tJiee.  (Psal.  55.)  To  which  join  that  of  St. 
Peter,  Casting  all  your  care  on  the  Lord,  for  he  careth  for  you. 

(1  Pet.  v.  7.) What  an  admirable  thing  is  this,  that  God  puts 

his  shoulder  to  our  burthen  !   and  entertains  our  care  for  us  that 

we  may  the  more  quietly  intend  his  service. To  conclude,  let 

me  commend  only  one  place  more  to  you,  (Philip,  iv.  4.)  St. 
Paul  saith  there,  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always,  and  again  I  say 
Rejoice.  He  doubles  it,  to  take  away  the  scruple  of  those  that 
might  say,  What,  shall  we  rejoice  in  afflictions  ?  yes,  I  say  again 
Rejoice ;  so  that  it  is  not  left  to  us  to  rejoice  or  not  rejoice :  but 
whatsoever  befalls  us  we  must  always,  at  all  times  rejoice  in  the 
Lord,  who  taketh  care  for  us :  and  it  follows  in  the  next  verse  : 
Let  your  moderation  appear  to  all  men,  the  Lord  is  at  hand :  be 
careful  for  nothing.  What  can  be  said  more  comfortably  \  trou- 
ble not  yourselves,  God  is  at  hand  to  deliver  us  from  all  or  in  all. 
Dear  madam,  pardon  my  boldness,  and  accept  the  good 
meaning  of 

Your  most  obedient  son, 

Trin.  Coll.  May  25,  1622. 


About  the  year  1629,  and  the  34th  of  his  age,  Mr.  Herbert 
was  seized  with  a  sharp  quotidian  ague,  and  thought  to  remove  it 
by  the  change  of  air ;  to  which  end  he  went  to  Woodford,  in 
Essex,  but  thither  more  chiefly  to  enjoy  the  company  of  his 
beloved  brother,  sir  Henry  Herbert,  and  other  friends  then  of 
that  family.  In  his  house  he  remained  about  twelve  months,  and 
there  became  his  own  physician,  and  cured  himself  of  his  ague, 
by  forbearing  drink,  and  not  eating  any  meat,  no  not  mutton, 
nor  a  hen,  or  pigeon,  unless  they  were  salted ;  and  by  such  a 
constant  diet  he  removed  his  ague,  but  with  inconveniences  that 
were  worse ;  for  he  brought  upon  himself  a  disposition  to  rheums 
and  other  weaknesses,  and  a  supposed  consumption.  And  it  is 
to  be  noted,  that  in  the  sharpest  of  his  extreme  fits  he  would 
often  say,  u  Lord,  abate  my  great  affliction,  or  increase  my 
patience ;  but,  Lord,  I  repine  not ;  I  am  dumb,  Lord,  before 
thee,  because  thou  doest  it."  By  which,  and  a  sanctified  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  God,  he  shewed  he  was  inclinable  to  bear 
the  sweet  yoke  of  Christian  discipline,  both  then,  and  in  the 
latter  part  of  his  life,  of  which  there  will  be  many  true  testi- 

And  now  his  care  was  to  recover  from  his  consumption  by  a 
change  from  Woodford  into  such  an  air  as  was  most  proper  to 
that  end.  And  his  remove  was  to  Dantsey,  in  Wiltshire,  a 
noble  house,  which  stands  in  a  choice  air  ;  the  owner  of  it  then 
was  the  lord  Danvers  7,  earl  of  Danby,  who  loved  Mr.  Herbert  so 
very  much,  that  he  allowed  him  such  an  apartment  in  it  as  might 
best  suit  with  his  accommodation  and  liking.  And  in  this  place, 
by  a  spare  diet,  declining  all  perplexing  studies,  moderate  exercise, 
and  a  cheerful  conversation,  his  health  was  apparently  improved 
to  a  good  degree  of  strength  and  cheerfulness :  and  then  he 
declared  his  resolution  both  to  marry  and  to  enter  into  the  sacred 
orders  of  priesthood.  These  had  long  been  the  desires  of  his 
mother  and  his  other  relations ;  but  she  lived  not  to  see  either, 
for  she  died  in  the  year  1627.  And  though  he  was  disobedient 
to  her  about  Layton  church,  yet,  in  conformity  to  her  will,  he 
kept  his  orator's  place  till  after  her  death,  and  then  presently 
(1(<  lined  it ;  and  the  more  willingly  that  he  might  be  succeed' •<! 

7  The  lord  Danvers.]  Henry  Danvers,  created  Lord  Danvers  of  Dantsey, 
27th  July,  1603,  and  earl  of  Danby  in  1626.  He  was  the  founder  of  the 
Botanic  Garden  at  Oxford.  He  died  in  1643,  when  his  titles  became  extinct. 
His  brother  was  George  Herbert's  stepfather,  see  p.  8. 


by  his  friend  Robert  Creighton,  who  is  now  Dr.  Creighton,  and 
the  worthy  bishop  of  Wells. 

I  shall  now  proceed  to  his  marriage ;  in  order  to  which  it  will 
be  convenient  that  I  first  give  the  reader  a  short  view  of  his 
person,  and  then  an  account  of  his  wife,  and  of  some  circumstances 
concerning  both. — He  was  for  his  person  of  a  stature  inclining 
towards  tallness ;  his  body  was  very  straight  and  so  far  from 
being  cumbered  with  too  much  flesh,  that  he  was  lean  to  an 
extremity.  His  aspect  was  cheerful,  arid  his  speech  and  motion 
did  both  declare  him  a  gentleman,  for  they  were  all  so  meek  and 
obliging  that  they  purchased  love  and  respect  from  all  that  knew 

These,  and  his  other  visible  virtues,  begot  him  much  love  from 
a  gentleman  of  a  noble  fortune,  and  a  near  kinsman  to  his  friend 
the  earl  of  Danby ;  namely,  from  Mr.  Charles  Danvers,  of 
Bainton,  in  the  county  of  Wilts,  esq.  This  Mr.  Danvers,  having 
known  him  long  and  familiarly,  did  so  much  affect  him,  that  he 
often  and  publicly  declared  a  desire  that  Mr.  Herbert  would 
marry  any  of  his  nine  daughters  (for  he  had  so  many)  but  rather 
his  daughter  Jane  than  any  other,  because  Jane  was  his  beloved 
daughter.  And  he  had  often  said  the  same  to  Mr.  Herbert 
himself ;  and  that  if  he  could  like  her  for  a  wife,  and  she  him  for 
a  husband,  Jane  should  have  a  double  blessing :  and  Mr.  Danvers 
had  so  often  said  the  like  to  Jane,  and  so  much  commended 
Mr.  Herbert  to  her,  that  Jane  became  so  much  a  Platonic  as  to 
fall  in  love  with  Mr.  Herbert  unseen. 

This  was  a  fair  preparation  for  a  marriage ;  but,  alas !  her 
father  died  before  Mr.  Herbert's  retirement  to  Dantsey;  yet 
some  friends  to  both  parties  procured  their  meeting,  at  which 
time  a  mutual  affection  entered  into  both  their  hearts,  as  a 
conqueror  enters  into  a  surprised  city ;  and  love  having  got  such 
possession,  governed,  and  made  there  such  laws  and  resolu- 
tions as  neither  party  was  able  to  resist;  insomuch  that  she 
changed  her  name  into  Herbert  the  third  day  after  this  first 

This  haste  might  in  others  be  thought  a  love-phrensy,  or  worse ; 
but  it  was  not ;  for  they  had  wooed  so  like  princes  as  to  have 
select  proxies :  such  as  were  true  friends  to  both  parties,  such  as 
well  understood  Mr.  Herbert's  and  her  temper  of  mind,  and  also 
their  estate  so  well  before  this  interview,  that  the  suddenness 
was  justifiable  by  the  strictest  rules  of  prudence  ;  and  the  more, 


because  it  proved  so  happy  to  both  parties ;  for  the  eternal  lover 
of  mankind  made  them  happy  in  each  other's  mutual  and  equal 
affections  and  compliance ;  indeed  so  happy  that  there  never  was 
any  opposition  betwixt  them,  unless  it  were  a  contest  which 
should  most  incline  to  a  compliance  with  the  other's  desires. 
And  though  this  begot  and  continued  in  them  such  a  mutual 
love,  and  joy,  and  content,  as  was  no  way  defective ;  yet  this 
mutual  content,  and  love,  and  joy,  did  receive  a  daily  augmenta- 
tion by  such  daily  obligingness  to  each  other  as  still  added  such 
new  affluences  to  the  former  fulness  of  these  divine  souls  as  was 
only  improvable  in  heaven,  where  they  now  enjoy  it. 

About  three  months  after  his  marriage,  Dr.  Curie,  who  was 
then  rector  of  Bemerton,  in  Wiltshire,  was  made  bishop  of  Bath 
and  Wells,  (and  not  long  after  translated  to  Winchester,)  and 
by  that  means  the  presentation  of  a  clerk  to  Bemerton  did  not 
fall  to  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  (who  was  the  undoubted  patron  of 
it,)  but  to  the  king,  by  reason  of  Dr.  Curie's  advancement:  but 
Philip 8,  then  earl  of  Pembroke,  (for  William  was  lately  dead ',) 
requested  the  king  to  bestow  it  upon  his  kinsman  George  Herbert ; 
and  the  king  said,  "  Most  willingly  to  Mr.  Herbert,  if  it  be 
worth  his  acceptance  :"  and  the  earl  as  willingly  and  suddenly 
sent  it  to  him  without  seeking.  But  though  Mr.  Herbert  had 
put  on  a  resolution  for  the  clergy,  yet,  at  receiving  this  presenta- 
tion, the  apprehension  of  the  last  great  account  that  he  was  to 
make  for  the  cure  of  so  many  souls  made  him  fast  and  pray  often, 
and  consider  for  not  less  than  a  month ;  in  which  time  he  had 
some  resolutions  to  decline  both  the  priesthood  and  that  living. 
And  in  this  time  of  considering,  "He  endured"  (as  he  would 
often  say)  "  such  spiritual  conflicts  as  none  can  think  but  only 
those  that  have  endured  them." 

In  the  midst  of  these  conflicts,  his  old  and  dear  friend  Mr. 
Arthur  Woodnot  took  a  journey  to  salute  him  at  Bainton  (where 
he  then  was  with  his  wife's  friends  and  relations),  and  was  joyful 
to  be  an  eye-witness  of  his  health,  and  happy  marriage.  And 
after  they  had  rejoiced  together  some  few  days,  they  took 
journey  to  Wilton,  the  famous  seat  of  the  earls  of  Pembroke  ;  at 
which  time  the  king,  the  earl,  and  the  whole  court  were  th«T<>. 
or  at  Salisbury,  which  is  near  to  it.  And  at  this  time  Mr. 

"  Philip.]  A  great  favourite  of  James,  who  had  previously  created  him  earl 
of  Montgomery. 
9  Lately  dead.]  10th  April,  1630. 


Herbert  presented  his  thanks  to  the  earl,  for  his  presentation  to 
Bemerton,  but  had  not  yet  resolved  to  accept  it,  and  told  him 
the  reason  why  ;  but  that  night,  the  earl  acquainted  Dr.  Laud, 
then  bishop  of  London,  and  after  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  with 
his  kinsman's  irresolution.  And  the  bishop  did  the  next  day  so 
convince  Mr.  Herbert  that  the  refusal  of  it  was  a  sin ;  that  a 
taylor  was  sent  for  to  come  speedily  from  Salisbury  to  Wilton, 
to  take  measure,  and  make  him  canonical  cloaths,  against  next 
day  :  which  the  taylor  did  ;  and  Mr.  Herbert  being  so  habited, 
went  with  his  presentation  to  the  learned  Dr.  Davenant,  who 
was  then  bishop  of  Salisbury,  and  he  gave  him  institution  imme- 
diately (for  Mr.  Herbert  had  been  made  deacon  some  years 
before),  and  he  was  also  the  same  day  (which  was  April  26, 
1630)  inducted  into  the  good  and  more  pleasant  than  healthful 
parsonage  of  Bemerton  :  which  is  a  mile  from  Salisbury. 

I  have  now  brought  him  to  the  parsonage  of  Bemerton,  and  to 
the  thirty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  must  stop  here,  and  bespeak 
the  reader  to  prepare  for  an  almost  incredible  story  of  the  great 
sanctity  of  the  short  remainder  of  his  holy  life  ;  a  life  so  full  of 
charity,  humility,  and  all  Christian  virtues,  that  it  deserves  the 
eloquence  of  St.  Chrysostom  to  commend  and  declare  it !  A 
life  that  if  it  were  related  by  a  pen  like  his,  there  would  then 
be  no  need  for  this  age  to  look  back  into  times  past  for  the 
examples  of  primitive  piety  :  for,  they  might  be  all  found  in  the 
life  of  George  Herbert.  But  now,  alas  !  who  is  fit  to  undertake 
it !  I  confess  I  am  not :  and  am  not  pleased  with  myself  that  I 
must ;  and  profess  myself  amazed,  when  I  consider  how  few  of 
the  clergy  lived  like  him  then,  and  how  many  live  so  unlike  him 
now. — But,  it  becomes  not  me  to  censure  :  my  design  is  rather 
to  assure  the  reader,  that  I  have  used  very  great  diligence  to 
inform  myself,  that  I  might  inform  him  of  the  truth  of  what 
follows  ;  and  though  I  cannot  adorn  it  with  eloquence,  yet  I 
will  do  it  with  sincerity. 

When  at  his  induction  he  was  shut  into  Bemerton  church, 
being  left  there  alone  to  toll  the  bell,  (as  the  law  requires  him :) 
he  staid  so  much  longer  than  an  ordinary  time,  before  he  returned 
to  those  friends  that  staid  expecting  him  at  the  church-door, 
that  his  friend  Mr.  Woodnot  looked  in  at  the  church-window, 
and  saw  him  lie  prostrate  on  the  ground  before  the  altar :  at 
which  time  and  place  (as  he  after  told  Mr.  Woodnot)  he  set 


some  rules  to  himself,  for  the  future  manage  of  his  life  ;  and  then 
and  there  made  a  vow,  to  labour  to  keep  them. 

And  the  same  night  that  he  had  his  induction,  he  said  to  Mr. 
Woodnot,  "  I  now  look  back  upon  my  aspiring  thoughts,  and 
think  myself  more  happy  than  if  I  had  attained  what  then  I  so 
ambitiously  thirsted  for.  And,  I  can  now  behold  the  court 
with  an  impartial  eye,  and  see  plainly,  that  it  is  made  up  of 
frauds  and  titles,  and  flattery,  and  many  other  such  empty, 
imaginary,  painted  pleasures :  pleasures,  that  are  so  empty,  as 
not  to  satisfy  when  they  are  enjoyed;  but,  in  God  and  his 
service,  is  a  fulness  of  all  joy  and  pleasure,  and  no  satiety.  And 
I  will  now  use  all  my  endeavours  to  bring  my  relations  and 
dependants  to  a  love  and  reliance  on  him,  who  never  fails  those 
that  trust  him.  But  above  all,  I  will  be  sure  to  live  well,  because 
the  virtuous  life  of  a  clergyman  is  the  most  powerful  eloquence  to 
persuade  all  that  see  it  to  reverence  and  love,  and  at  least,  to 
desire  to  live  like  him.  And  this  I  will  do,  because  I  know  we 
live  in  an  age  that  hath  more  need  of  good  examples,  than 
precepts.  And  I  beseech  that  God,  who  hath  honoured  me  so 
much  as  to  call  me  to  serve  him  at  his  altar,  that  as  by  his 
special  grace  he  hath  put  into  my  heart  these  good  desires,  and 
resolutions;  so,  he  will  by  his  assisting  grace  give  me  ghostly 
strength  to  bring  the  same  to  good  effect.  And  I  beseech  him 
that  my  humble  and  charitable  life  may  so  win  upon  others,  as  to 
bring  glory  to  my  Jesus,  whom  I  have  this  day  taken  to  be  my 
master  and  governor ;  and  I  am  so  proud  of  his  service,  that  I 
will  always  observe,  and  obey,  and  do  his  will ;  and  always  call 
him  Jesus  my  master1 ;  and  I  will  always  contemn  my  birth,  or 
any  title  or  dignity  that  can  be  conferred  upon  me,  when  I  shall 
compare  them  with  my  title  of  being  a  priest,  and  serving  at  the 
altar  of  Jesus  my  master." 

And  that  he  did  so,  may  appear  in  many  parts  of  his  book  of 
Sacred  1'oL-ms;  especially  in  that  which  he  calls  the  Odour.  In 

1  Jesus  my  master.']  "  To  testify  his  independency  upon  all  others,  and  to 
quicken  his  diligence,  he  used  in  his  ordinary  speech,  when  he  made  mention 
of  the  blessed  name  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  to  add,  My 
Master.''—  Printer's  Preface  to  The  Temple,  or  Sacred  Poems,  &c. 

•  1 1  is  motto,  with  which  he  used  to  conclude  all  things  that  might  seem  to 
end  any  way  to  his  own  honour,  was, 

"  Lets  than  the  least  of  God's  mercies."— Ibid. 


which  he  seems  to  rejoice  in  the  thoughts  of  that  word  Jesus,  and 
say  that  the  adding  these  words  my  master  to  it,  and  the  often 
repetition  of  them,  seemed  to  perfume  his  mind,  and  leave  an 
oriental  fragrancy  in  his  very  breath.  And  for  his  unforced 
choice  to  serve  at  God's  altar,  he  seems  in  another  place  of  his 
poems  (the  Pearl,  Matth.  xiii.)  to  rejoice  and  say — "  He  knew 
the  ways  of  learning ;  knew,  what  nature  does  willingly ;  and 
what  when  it  is  forced  by  fire :  knew  the  ways  of  honour,  and 
when  glory  inclines  the  soul  to  noble  expressions :  knew  the 
court :  knew  the  ways  of  pleasure,  of  love,  of  wit,  of  music,  and 
upon  what  terms  he  declined  all  these  for  the  service  of  his 
master  Jesus,"  and  then  concludes,  saying, 

"  That,  through  these  labyrinths,  not  my  groveling  wit, 
But,  thy  silk-twist,  let  down  from  heaven  to  me, 
Did,  both  conduct,  and  teach  me,  how  by  it, 
To  climb  to  thee." 

The  third  day  after  he  was  made  rector  of  Bemerton,  and  had 
changed  his  sword  and  silk  cloathes  into  a  canonical  coat,  he 
returned  so  habited  with  his  friend  Mr.  Woodnot  to  Bainton  : 
and,  immediately  after  he  had  seen  and  saluted  his  wife,  he  said 
to  her — "  You  are  now  a  minister's  wife,  and  must  now  so  far 
forget  your  father's  house,  as  not  to  claim  a  precedence  of  any  of 
your  parishioners ;  for  you  are  to  know,  that  a  priest's  wife  can 
challenge  no  precedence  or  place,  but  that  which  she  purchases 
by  her  obliging  humility ;  and,  I  am  sure,  places  so  purchased 
do  best  become  them.  And,  let  me  tell  you,  that  I  am  so  good 
a  herald  as  to  assure  you  that  this  is  truth."  And  she  was  so 
meek  a  wife,  "as  to  assure  him  that  it  was  no  vexing  news  to 
her,  and  that  he  should  see  her  observe  it  with  a  chearful  willing- 
ness." And  indeed  her  unforced  humility,  that  humility  that  was 
in  her  so  original  as  to  be  born  with  her  !  made  her  so  happy  as 
to  do  so ;  and  her  doing  so  begot  her  an  unfeigned  love,  and  a 
serviceable  respect  from  all  that  conversed  with  her ;  and  this 
love  followed  her  in  all  places,  as  inseparably,  as  shadows  follow 
substances  in  sun-shine. 

It  was  not  many  days  before  he  returned  back  to  Bemerton, 
to  view  the  church,  and  repair  the  chancel ;  and  indeed,  to  re- 
build almost  three  parts  of  his  house  which  was  fallen  down,  or 
decayed  by  reason  of  his  predecessor's  living  at  a  better  parsonage- 


house ;  namely,  at  Minal,  sixteen  or  twenty  miles  from  this  place. 
At  which  time  of  Mr.  Herberts  coming  alone  to  Bemerton,  there 
came  to  him  a  poor  old  woman,  with  an  intent  to  acquaint  him 
with  her  necessitous  condition,  as  also  with  some  troubles  of  her 
mind ;  but  after  she  had  spoke  some  few  words  to  him,  she  was 
surprised  with  a  fear,  and  that  begot  a  shortness  of  breath,  so 
that  her  spirits  and  speech  failed  her ;  which  he  perceiving,  did  so 
compassionate  her,  and  was  so  humble,  that  he  took  her  by  the 
hand,  and  said,  "  Speak,  good  mother,  be  not  afraid  to  speak  to 
me  ;  for  I  am  a  man  that  will  hear  you  with  patience  !  and  will 
relieve  your  necessities  too,  if  I  be  able :  and  this  I  will  do  wil- 
lingly, and  therefore,  mother,  be  not  afraid  to  acquaint  me  with 
what  you  desire."  After  which  comfortable  speech,  he  again  took 
her  by  the  hand,  made  her  sit  down  by  him,  and  understanding 
she  was  of  his  parish,  he  told  her,  "  He  would  be  acquainted 
with  her,  and  take  her  into  his  care :"  and  having  with  patience 
heard  and  understood  her  wants  (and  it  is  some  relief  for  a  poor 
body  to  be  but  heard  with  patience)  he  like  a  Christian  clergyman 
comforted  her  by  his  meek  behaviour  and  counsel :  but  because 
that  cost  him  nothing,  he  relieved  her  with  money  too,  and  so 
sent  her  home  with  a  chearful  heart,  praising  God,  and  praying 
for  him.  Thus  worthy,  and  (like  David's  blessed  man)  thus  lowly, 
was  Mr.  George  Herbert  in  his  own  eyes :  and  thus  lovely  in  the 
eyes  of  others. 

At  his  return  that  night  to  his  wife  at  Bainton,  he  gave  her  an 
account  of  the  passages  betwixt  him  and  the  poor  woman  ;  with 
which  she  was  so  affected,  that  she  went  next  day  to  Salisbury, 
and  there  bought  a  pair  of  blankets  and  sent  them  as  a  token  of 
her  love  to  the  poor  woman :  and  with  them  a  message,  "  That 
she  would  see  and  be  acquainted  with  her,  when  her  house  was 
built  at  Bemerton." 

There  be  many  such  passages  both  of  him  and  his  wife,  of 
which  some  few  will  be  related  ;  but  I  shall  first  tell,  that  he 
hasted  to  get  the  parish  church  repaired ;  then  to  beautify  the 
chapel  (which  stands  near  his  house)  and  that  at  his  own  great 
charge.  He  then  proceeded  to  re -build  the  greatest  part  of  the 
parsonage-house,  which  he  did  also  very  compleatly,  and  at  his 
own  charge ;  and  having  done  this  good  work,  he  caused  these 
verses  to  be  writ  upon  it.  or  engraven  in  the  mantle  of  the  chim- 
ney in  his  hall. 


"  To  my  successor. 

"  If  thou  chance  for  to  find 
A  new  house  to  thy  mind, 

And  built  without  thy  cost : 
Be  good  to  the  poor, 
As  God  gives  thee  store, 

And  then  my  labour's  not  lost." 

We  will  now  by  the  reader's  favour  suppose  him  fixed  at  Be- 
merton,  and  grant  him  to  have  seen  the  church  repaired,  and  the 
chapel  belonging  to  it  very  decently  adorned,  at  his  own  great 
charge  (which  is  a  real  truth),  and  having  now  fixed  him  there,  I 
shall  proceed  to  give  an  account  of  the  rest  of  his  behaviour  both 
to  his  parishioners,  and  those  many  others  that  knew  and 
conversed  with  him. 

Doubtless  Mr.  Herbert  had  considered  and  given  rules  to  him- 
self for  his  Christian  carriage  both  to  God  and  man,  before  he 
entered  into  holy  orders.  And  it  is  not  unlike,  but  that  he 
renewed  those  resolutions  at  his  prostration  before  the  holy  altar, 
at  his  induction  into  the  church  at  Bemerton  ;  but  as  yet  he  was 
but  a  deacon,  and  therefore  longed  for  the  next  ember-week,  that 
he  might  be  ordained  priest,  and  made  capable  of  administering 
both  the  sacraments.  At  which  time,  the  reverend  doctor 
Humphrey  Hinchman,  now  lord  bishop  of  London  (who  does  not 
mention  him,  but  with  some  veneration  for  his  life  and  excellent 
learning,)  tells  me,  "  He  laid  his  hand  on  Mr.  Herbert's  head, 
and  (alas  !)  within  less  than  three  years,  lent  his  shoulder  to  carry 
his  dear  friend  to  his  grave." 

And  that  Mr.  Herbert  might  the  better  preserve  those  holy 
rules  which  such  a  priest  as  he  intended  to  be,  ought  to  observe ; 
and,  that  time  might  not  insensibly  blot  them  out  of  his  memory, 
but  that  the  next  year  might  shew  him  his  variations  from  this 
year's  resolutions ;  he  therefore  did  set  down  his  rules,  then 
resolved  upon,  in  that  order,  as  the  world  now  sees  them  printed 
in  a  little  book  called,  The  Country  Parson,  in  which  some  of  his 
rules  are : 

The  Parson's  Knowledge. 

The  Parson  on  Sundays. 

The  Parson  Praying. 

The  Parson  Preaching. 

The  Parson's  Charity. 


The  Parson  comforting  the  Sick. 

The  Parson  Arguing. 

The  Parson  Condescending. 

The  Parson  in  his  Journey. 

The  Parson  in  his  Mirth. 

The  Parson  with  his  Churchwardens. 

The  Parson  blessing  the  People. 

And  his  behaviour  toward  God  and  man  may  be  said  to  be  a 
practical  comment  on  these,  and  the  other  holy  rules  set  down  in 
that  useful  book.  A  book,  so  full  of  plain,  prudent  and  useful 
rules,  that  that  country  parson,  that  can  spare  twelve  pence  and 
yet  wants  it,  is  scarce  excusable  ;  because  it  will  both  direct  him 
what  he  ought  to  do,  and  convince  him  for  not  having  done  it. 

At  the  death  of  Mr.  Herbert,  this  book  fell  into  the  hands 
of  his  friend  Mr.  Woodnot ;  and  he  commended  it  into  the 
trusty  hands  of  Mr.  Barnabas  Oly,  who  published  it 3  with  a  most 
conscientious,  and  excellent  preface ;  from  which  I  have  had  some 
of  those  truths,  that  are  related  in  this  life  of  Mr.  Herbert. — 
The  text  for  his  first  sermon  was  taken  out  of  Solomons  Proverbs, 
and  the  words  were,  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence.  In  which 
first  sermon,  he  gave  his  parishioners  many  necessary,  holy,  safe 
rules  for  the  discharge  of  a  good  conscience,  both  to  God  and  man. 
And  delivered  his  sermon  after  a  most  florid  manner ;  both  with 
great  learning  and  eloquence.  But  at  the  close  of  this  sermon, 
told  them,  "  That  should  not  be  his  constant  way  of  preaching ; 
for,  since  almighty  God  does  not  intend  to  lead  men  to  heaven  by 
hard  questions,  he  would  not  therefore  fill  their  heads  with  unne- 
cessary notions ;  but,  that  for  their  sakes,  his  language  and  his 
expressions  should  be  more  plain  and  practical  in  his  future  ser- 

2  Who  published  it.'}  The  Country  Parson  has  been  lately  reprinted  at  the 
Clarendon  Press,  by  the  University  of  Oxford,  in  a  volume  intitled  The  Cler- 
gyman's Instructor;  which  contains  also  Bishop  Burnet's  Pastoral  Care, 
Bishop  Bull's  Directions  to  Candidates  for  Holy  Orders,  and  some  other 
excellent  tracts  on  the  ministerial  duties  ;  the  whole  forming  a  very  valuable 
addition  to  the  highly  important  services  which  have  recently  been  rendered 
by  that  University  to  the  cause  of  religion,  and  of  the  Church  of  England  in 
particular,  by  the  republication  of  a  collection  of  works  of  our  English 
divines,  for  the  use  of  the  younger  clergy,  and  students  in  theology.  The 
collection  comprises  the  Homilies,  Hooker's  Works,  Pearson  on  the  Creed, 
Stillingfleet's  Origines  Sacra,  Barrow's  Works,  Walton's  Lives,  Wheatly  on 
the  Common  Prayer,  &c.  &c. 


mons."  And  he  then  made  it  his  humble  request,  that  they 
would  be  constant  to  the  afternoon's  service,  and  catechising. 
And  shewed  them  convincing  reasons  why  he  desired  it ;  and  his 
obliging  example  and  persuasions  brought  them  to  a  willing  con- 
formity to  his  desires. 

The  texts  for  all  his  future  sermons  (which  God  knows  were 
not  many)  were  constantly  taken  out  of  the  gospel  for  the  day ; 
and  he  did  as  constantly  declare  why  the  church  did  appoint  that 
portion  of  Scripture  to  be  that  day  read :  and  in  what  manner 
the  collect  for  every  Sunday  does  refer  to  the  gospel,  or  to  the 
epistle  then  read  to  them  ;  and,  that  they  might  pray  with  under- 
standing, he  did  usually  take  occasion  to  explain,  not  only  the 
collect  for  every  particular  Sunday,  but  the  reasons  of  all  the 
other  collects  and  responses  in  our  church-service  ;  and  made  it 
appear  to  them,  that  the  whole  service  of  the  church  was  a  rea- 
sonable, and  therefore  an  acceptable  sacrifice  to  God ;  as  namely, 
that  we  begin  with  confession  of  ourselves  to  be  vile,  miserable 
sinners:  and  that  we  begin  so,  because  till  we  have  confessed 
ourselves  to  be  such,  we  are  not  capable  of  that  mercy  which 
we  acknowledge  we  need,  and  pray  for :  but  having  in  the  prayer 
of  our  Lord,  begged  pardon  for  those  sins  which  we  have  confest ; 
and  hoping  that  as  the  priest  hath  declared  our  absolution,  so  by 
our  public  confession,  and  real  repentance,  we  have  obtained  that 
pardon ;  then  we  dare  and  do  proceed  to  beg  of  the  Lord,  to  open 
our  lips,  that  our  mouths  may  shew  forth  his  praise ;  for  till  then, 
we  are  neither  able  nor  worthy  to  praise  him.  But  this  being 
supposed,  we  are  then  fit  to  say,  Glory  be  to  the  Father,  and  to  the 
Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  fit  to  proceed  to  a  further  service 
of  our  God,  in  the  collects,  and  psalms,  and  lauds  that  follow  in 
the  service. 

And  as  to  these  psalms  and  lauds,  he  proceeded  to  inform  them, 
why  they  were  so  often,  and  some  of  them  daily  repeated  in  our 
church-service  :  namely,  the  psalms  every  month,  because  they  be 
an  historical  and  thankful  repetition  of  mercies  past ;  and  such  a 
composition  of  prayers  and  praises,  as  ought  to  be  repeated  often, 
and  publickly;  for  with  such  sacrifices,  God  is  honoured,  and 
well-pleased.  This  for  the  psalms. 

And  for  the  hymns  and  lauds,  appointed  to  be  daily  repeated 
or  sung  after  the  first  and  second  lessons  are  read  to  the  congre- 
gation ;  he  proceeded  to  inform  them,  that  it  was  most  reason- 
able, after  they  have  heard  the  will  and  goodness  of  God  declared 

VOL.  TV.  D 


or  preached  by  the  priest  in  his  reading  the  two  chapters,  that  it 
was  then  a  seasonable  duty  to  rise  up  and  express  their  gratitude 
to  almighty  God  for  those  his  mercies  to  them,  and  to  all  man- 
kind ;  and  then  to  say  with  the  blessed  Virgin,  That  their  souls 
do  magnify  the  Lord,  and  that  their  spirits  do  also  rejoice  in  God 
tlwir  Saviour.  And  that  it  was  their  duty  also  to  rejoice  with 
Simeon  in  his  song,  and  say  with  him,  That  their  eyes  have  also 
seen  their  salvation  ;  for,  they  have  seen  that  salvation  which  was 
but  prophesyed  till  his  time :  and  he  then  broke  out  into  those 
expressions  of  joy  that  he  did  see  it,  but,  they  live  to  see  it 
daily,  in  the  history  of  it,  and  therefore  ought  daily  to  rejoice, 
and  daily  to  offer  up  their  sacrifices  of  praise  to  their  God,  for 
that  particular  mercy.  A  service,  which  is  now  the  constant  em- 
ployment of  that  blessed  Virgin,  and  Simeon,  and  all  those 
blessed  saints  that  are  possest  of  heaven  :  and,  where  they  are  at 
this  time  interchangeably,  and  constantly  singing,  Holy,  holy,  holy 

Lord  God,  glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  on  earth  peace. And  he 

taught  them,  that  to  do  this  was  an  acceptable  service  to  God, 
because  the  prophet  David  says  in  his  psalms,  He  that  praiseth  1l<> 
Lord,  hwoureth  him. 

He  made  them  to  understand,  how  happy  they  be  that  are 
freed  from  the  incumbrances  of  that  law  which  our  fore-fathers 
groaned  under ;  namely,  from  the  legal  sacrifices,  and  from  the 
many  ceremonies  of  the  Levitical  law ;  freed  from  circumcision, 
and  from  the  strict  observation  of  the  Jewish  Sabbath,  and  the 
like :  and  he  made  them  know,  that  having  received  so  many, 
and  so  great  blessings,  by  being  born  since  the  days  of  our  Sa- 
viour, it  must  be  an  acceptable  sacrifice  to  almighty  God,  for 
them  to  acknowledge  those  blessings  daily,  and  stand  up  and  wor- 
ship, and  say  as  Zacharias  did,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel, 
for  he  linlli  (in  our  days)  visited  and  redeemed  his  people;  and  (he 
hath  in  our  days)  remembered,  and  shewed  that  mercy  which  by  the 
mouth  of  tlie  prophets  lie  promised  to  our  forefathers :  and  this  he 
hath  done,  according  to  his  holy  covenant  made  with  them.  And 
h<  made  them  to  understand  that  we  live  to  see  and  enjoy  the 
benefit  of  it,  in  his  birth,  in  his  life,  in  his  passion,  his  resurrec- 
tion and  ascension  into  heaven,  where  he  now  sits  sensible  of  all 
our  temptations  and  infirmities;  and  where  lie  is  at  this  present 
time  making  intercession  for  us.  to  his,  and  our  Father:  and 
therefore  they  ought  daily  to  express  their  public  gratulutimis. 
and  say  daily  with  /;.  >/  //,  ///,//  A//,-//  God  of  I* 


that  hath  thus  visited,  and  thus  redeemed  his  people. These  were 

some  of  the  reasons  by  which  Mr.  Herbert  instructed  his  congre- 
gation for  the  use  of  the  psalms,  and  the  hymns  appointed  to  be 
daily  sung  or  said  in  the  church-service. 

He  informed  them  also,  when  the  priest  did  pray  only  for  the 
congregation,  and  not  for  himself;  and  when  they  did  only  pray 
for  him,  as  namely,  after  the  repetition  of  the  creed,  before  he 
proceeds  to  pray  the  Lord's  prayer,  or  any  of  the  appointed  col- 
lects, the  priest  is  directed  to  kneel  down,  and  pray  for  them, 

saying The  Lord  be  with  you And  when  they  pray  for 

him,  saying And  with  thy  spirit ;  and  then  they  join  together 

in  the  following  collects  ;  and  he  assured  them,  that  when  there 
is  such  mutual  love,  and  such  joint  prayers  offered  for  each  other, 
then  the  holy  angels  look  down  from  heaven,  and  are  ready  to 
carry  such  charitable  desires  to  God  almighty ;  and  he  as  ready 
to  receive  them ;  and  that  a  Christian  congregation  calling  thus 
upon  God,  with  one  heart,  and  one  voice,  and  in  one  reverend  and 
humble  posture,  look  as  beautifully  as  Jerusalem,  that  is  at  peace 
with  itself. 

He  instructed  them  also,  why  the  prayer  of  our  Lord  was 
prayed  often 3  in  every  full  service  of  the  church  ;  namely,  at  the 

3  Why  the  prayer  of  our  Lord  was  prayed  oftenJ]  "  Marvel  not  that  I  use 
at  the  sermons  end  to  make  prayer,  for  I  do  it  not  of  singularitie  :  but  when 
I  am  at  home,  and  in  the  countrey  where  I  goe,  sometime  when  the  poore 
people  come  and  aske  it  me,  I  appose  them  my  selfe,  or  cause  my  servant  to 
appose  them  of  the  Lordes  Prayer,  and  they  aunswere  some,  '  I  can  my 
Latin  Pater  noster;'  some,  '  I  can  the  old  Pater  noster,  but  not  the  new.' 
Therefore,  that  all  that  can  it  not  may  learne,  I  use  before  the  Sermon  and 
after  to  say  it.  Wherefore  now  I  beseeche  you  let  us  say  it  together ;  Our 
Father  whiche  art  in  heaven,  fyc."  Latimer's  Sermons,  fol.  100,  edit.  1584. 
Calvin  "  ever  concluded  his  prayer  before  or  after  sermon  with  repeating  of 
the  Creed  and  Lord's  Prayer,  conceiving  it  to  be  of  good  use  to  have  these 
often  sounding  in  the  ears  of  the  people,  as  Beza  tells  us  in  writing  his  life." 
Bernard's  Life  of  Archbishop  Usher,  p.  84.  "  It  is  no  wonder  you  are 
thought  a  legal  preacher "  (says  Mr.  Clark,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Doddridge, 
when  a  young  man)  "  when  you  have  the  ten  commandments  painted  on  the 
walls  of  your  chappel :  besides,  you  have  a  clerk,  it  seems,  so  impertinent  as 
to  say  Amen,  with  an  audible  voice.  O  tempora  !  0  mores  I  that  such  a  rag 
of  popery  should  ever  be  tolerated  in  a  congregation  of  protestant  dissen- 
ters :  and  to  conclude  all,  you,  the  minister,  conclude  your  prayers  with  a 
form  called  the  Lord's  Prayer. — It  may  be  you  are  surprised  what  this  means. 
In  a  few  words  then,  Mr.  Chandler  of  Bedford,  being  on  his  return  home,  at 
Mr.  Eccles's,  desired  him  upon  my  motion  to  write  to  Hertford,  to  recom- 
mend you  to  them  in  his  name,  as  a  very  fit  man  to  be  their  minister.  Upon 



conclusion  of  the  several  parts  of  that  service ;  and  prayed  then, 
not  only  because  it  was  composed,  and  commanded  by  our  Jesus 
that  made  it,  but  as  a  perfect  pattern  for  our  less  perfect  forms 
of  prayer,  and  therefore  fittest  to  sum  up  and  conclude  all  our 
imperfect  petitions. 

He  instructed  them  also,  that  as  by  the  second  commandment 
we  are  required,  not  to  bow  down,  or  worship  an  idol,  or  false 
god ;  so  by  the  contrary  rule,  we  are  to  bow  down  and  kneel,  or 
stand  up  and  worship  the  true  God.  And  he  instructed  them, 
why  the  church  required  the  congregation  to  stand  up  at  the 
repetition  of  the  creeds ;  namely,  because  they  did  thereby  de- 
clare both  their  obedience  to  the  church,  and  an  assent  to  that 
faith  into  which  they  had  been  baptized.  And  he  taught  them, 
that  in  that  shorter  creed  or  doxology  so  often  repeated  daily, 
they  also  stood  up  to  testify  their  belief4  to  be,  that  the  God  that 
they  trusted  in  was  one  God,  and  three  persons ;  the  Father,  the 
Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ;  to  whom  they  and  the  priest  gave  glory  : 
and  because  there  had  been  heretics  that  had  denyed  some  of 
these  three  persons  to  be  God,  therefore  the  congregation  stood 

this,  two  members  of  that  congregation  went  the  other  day  to  Kibworth  to 
hear  you  preach  :  but  no  sooner  did  they  come  into  the  place  but  they  found 
themselves  disappointed  :  and  what  they  heard  at  the  close  confirmed  them 
so  much  in  their  prejudices,  that  they  thought  it  needless  to  say  any  thing 
of  their  intention  to  you.  Going  to  preach  last  Sunday  at  Ware,  I  heard 
all  this  there;  and  afterwards  at  Hertford."  Letters  to  and  from  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge,  p.  14. 

4  To  testify  their  belief.']  "  I  know  a  minister  "  (says  Fuller  in  his  Church 
History,  speaking  of  the  times  when  the  liturgy  was  forbidden  by  an  ordi- 
nance of  the  parliament,  and  the  presbyterian  directory  was  established)  "  I 
know  a  minister  who  was  accused  for  using  the  Gloria  Patri  (conforming  his 
practice  to  the  directorie  in  all  things  else,)  and  threatened  to  be  brought  to 
the  committee.  He  pleaded  the  words  of  Mr.  Cartwright  in  his  defence, 
'confessing*  (Reply  against  IVhitgift,  p.  107,  sect.  4.)  'the  gloria  Patri 
founded  on  just  cause,  that  men  might  make  their  open  profession  in  the 
church  of  the  divinity  of  the  Son  of  God,  against  the  detestable  opinion  of 
Arius  and  his  disciples.  But  now  (saith  he)  that  it  hath  pleased  the  Lord 
to  quench  that  fire,  there  is  no  such  cause  why  those  things  should  be 
used.'  But  seeing  (said  the  minister)  it  hath  pleased  God  for  our  sins  to 
condemn  us  to  live  in  so  licentious  an  age,  wherein  the  divinity  both  of 
('hrist  and  the  Holy  Ghost  is  called  frequently  and  publickly  into  question, 
the  same  now  (by  Mr.  Cartwright's  judgment)  may  lawfully  be  used,  not  to 
say  cannot  well  be  omitted. — I  remember  not  that  he  heard  any  more  of  the 
matter."  Church  History  of  Britain,  Cent.  17,  p.  224.  Compare  Hooker's 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  book  r>,  c.  42. 


up  and  honoured  him,  by  confessing,  and  saying,  It  was  so  in  the 
beginning,  is  now  so,  and  shall  ever  be  so  world  without  end.  And 
all  gave  their  assent  to  this  belief,  by  standing  up  and  saying, 

He -instructed  them  also,  what  benefit  they  had  by  the  church's 
appointing  the  celebration  of  holidays 5,  and  the  excellent  use  of 
them ;  namely,  that  they  were  set  apart  for  particular  commemora- 
tions of  particular  mercies  received  from  almighty  God  ;  and  (as 
reverend  Mr.  Hooker  says)  to  be  the  land-marks  to  distinguish 
times ;  for  by  them  we  are  taught  to  take  notice  how  time  passes 
by  us ;  and,  that  we  ought  not  to  let  the  years  pass  without  a  ce- 
lebration of  praise  for  those  mercies  which  those  days  give  us  oc- 
casion to  remember;  and  therefore  they  were  to  note  that  the  year 
is  appointed  to  begin 6  the  25th  day  of  March  ;  a  day  in  which  we 
commemorate  the  angePs  appearing  to  the  blessed  Virgin,  with 
the  joyful  tidings  that  she  should  conceive  and  bear  a  son,  that 
should  be  the  redeemer  of  mankind ;  and  she  did  so  forty  weeks 
after  this  joyful  salutation  ;  namely,  at  our  Christmas :  a  day  in 
which  we  commemorate  his  birth,  with  joy  and  praise ;  and  that 

6  Celebration  of  holidays.']  "In  the  year  1643,  the  ministers  of  the  city  of 
London  met  together  to  consult  whether  they  should  preach  on  the  Christ- 
mas-day following,  as  they  had  been  wont  to  do,  or  take  no  notice  at  all  of 
the  day.  One  of  them,  whom  I  shall  not  name,  of  great  authority  amongst 
them,  was  against  their  preaching,  and  was  very  near  prevailing  with  the  rest 
of  his  brethren  to  forbear.  Our  author  "  (Dr.  John  Lightfoot)  "  was  at  that 
meeting  (being  at  that  time  minister  at  St.  Bartholomew's  aforesaid),  who 
was  so  far  from  consenting  to  the  advice  of  that  person  who  gave  it,  that  he 
took  him  aside,  and  argued  the  point  with  him ;  and  did  not  only  maintain 
the  lawfulness  of  the  thing  in  question,  but  the  expedience  of  it  also :  and 
shewed  that  the  omitting  it  would  be  of  dangerous  consequence,  and  would 
reflect  very  much  upon  those  men  who  made  profession  of  no  other  design 
but  reforming  what  was  culpable  and  faulty.  In  a  word,  he  so  far  prevailed 
with  the  company,  that  when  it  was  put  to  the  question,  it  was  carried  in  the 
affirmative,  and  there  were  not  above  four  or  five  of  the  whole  who  dissented." 
Strype's  Life  of  Lightfoot,  prefixed  to  his  works,  p.  3.  See  also  Hooker's 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  book  5,  c.  69.  The  first  distaste  of  the  celebration  of 
holy-days  in  the  church  of  England,  was  contracted  at  Geneva.  See  Good- 
man's How  to  obey,  A.D.  1558,  p.  158. 

f)  Appointed  to  beain.~\  "  I  shall  observe  (though  perhaps  every  body 
knows  it),  that  we  use  two  different  computations  in  this  nation,  viz.  the 
common  or  Julian,  which  begins  the  year  on  the  first  day  of  January ;  and 
the  ecclesiastical,  which  begins  the  year  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  March."  Ben- 
net's  Essay  on  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  p.  247.  On  this  subject  see  the  note 
at  vol.  ii.  pp.  491,  492. 


eight  days  after  this  happy  birth,  we  celebrate  his  circumcision ; 
namely,  that  day  which  we  call  New-year's  day.  And  that  upon 
that  day  which  we  call  Twelfth-day,  we  commemorate  the  mani- 
festation of  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Jesus  to  the  Gentiles :  and 
that  that  day  we  also  celebrate  the  memory  of  his  goodness  in 
sending  a  star  to  guide  the  three  wise  men  from  the  east  to 
Bethlem,  that  they  might  there  worship,  and  present  him  \\ith 
their  oblations  of  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh.  And  he  (Mr. 
Herbert)  instructed  them,  that  Jesus  was,  forty  days  after  his 
birth,  presented  by  his  blessed  mother  in  the  temple ;  namely, 
on  that  day  which  we  call  the  purification  of  the  blessed  virgin, 
saint  Mary.  And  he  instructed  them,  that  by  the  lent-fast,  we 
imitate  and  commemorate  our  Saviour's  humiliation  in  fasting 
forty  days ;  and,  that  we  ought  to  endeavour  to  be  like  him  in 
purity.  And,  that  on  Good-friday,  we  commemorate  and  con- 
dole his  crucifixion.  And,  at  Easter,  commemorate  his  glorious 
resurrection.  And  he  taught  them,  that  after  Jesus  had  mani- 
fested himself  to  his  disciples,  to  be  that  Christ  that  was  crucified, 
dead  and  buried;  and  by  his  appearing  and  conversing  with  lii.s 
disciples  for  the  space  of  forty  days  after  his  resurrection,  he  then, 
and  not  till  then,  ascended  into  heaven,  in  the  sight  of  those  disci- 
ples ;  namely,  on  that  day  which  we  call  the  ascension,  or  Holy 
Thursday.  And  that  we  then  celebrate  the  performance  of  the 
promise  which  he  made  to  his  disciples,  at  or  before  his  ascension ; 
namely,  that  though  he  left  them,  yet  he  would  send  them  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  be  their  comforter  ;  and  that  he  did  so  on  that  day  which 

the  church   calls  Whitsunday. Thus   the   church  keeps  an 

historical  and  circular  commemoration  of  times,  as  they  pass  by 
us ;  of  such  times,  as  ought  to  incline  us  to  occasional  praises, 
for  the  particular  blessings  which  we  do,  or  might  receive  by 
those  holy  commemorations. 

He  made  them  know  also,  why  the  church  hath  appointed 
ember-weeks ;  and,  to  know  the  reason  why  the  commandments, 
and  the  epistles  and  gospels  were  to  be  read  at  the  altar,  or  com- 
munion table :  why  the  priest  was  to  pray  the  litany  kneeling  ; 
and,  why  to  pray  some  collects  standing  ;  and  he  gave  them  many 
other  observations,  fit  for  his  plain  congregation,  but  not  fit  for 
me  now  to  mention ;  for,  I  must  set  limits  to  my  pen,  and  not 
make  that  a  treatise,  which  I  intended  to  be  a  much  shorter 
account  than  I  have  made  it. — But  I  have  done,  when  I  have 
told  the  reader  that  lie  was  constant  in  catechising  every  Sunday 


in  the  afternoon,  and  that  his  catechising  was  after  the  second 
lesson,  and  in  the  pulpit,  and  that  he  never  exceeded  his  half 
hour,  and  was  always  so  happy  as  to  have  an  obedient,  and  a  full 

And,  to  this  I  must  add,  that  if  he  were  at  any  time  too 
zealous  in  his  sermons,  it  was,  in  reproving  the  indecencies  of  the 
peopled  behaviour,  in  the  time  of  divine  service  ;  and  of  those 
ministers  that  huddled  up  the  church-prayers,  without  a  visible 
reverence  and  affection;  namely,  such  as  seemed  to  say  the 
Lord's  prayer,  or  a  collect,  in  a  breath ;  but  for  himself,  his 
custom  was.  to  stop  betwixt  every  collect,  and  give  the  people 
time  to  consider  what  they  had  prayed,  and  to  force  their 
desires  affectionately  to  God,  before  he  engaged  them  into  new 

And  by  this  account  of  his  diligence,  to  make  his  parishioners 
understand  what  they  prayed,  and  why  they  praised,  and  adored 
their  Creator,  I  hope  I  shall  the  more  easily  obtain  the  reader's 
belief  to  the  following  account  of  Mr.  Herbert's  own  practice, 
which  was,  to  appear  constantly  with  his  wife,  and  three  nieces 
(the  daughters  of  a  deceased  sister)  and  his  whole  family,  twice 
every  day  at  the  church-prayers,  in  the  chapel  which  does  almost 
join  to  his  parsonage-house.  And  for  the  time  of  his  appearing, 
it  was  strictly  at  the  canonical  hours  of  ten  and  four  ;  and  then 
and  there  he  lifted  up  pure  and  charitable  hands  to  God  in  the 
midst  of  the  congregation.  And  he  would  joy  to  have  spent  that 
time  in  that  place,  where  the  honour  of  his  master  Jesus  dwelleth ; 
and  there,  by  that  inward  devotion  which  he  testified  constantly 
by  an  humble  behaviour,  and  visible  adoration,  he,  like  Joshua, 
brought  not  only  Ms  own  /household  thus  to  serve  the  Lord ;  but 
brought  most  of  his  parishioners,  and  many  gentlemen  in  the 
neighbourhood,  constantly  to  make  a  part  of  his  congregation 
twice  a  day.  And  some  of  the  meaner  sort  of  his  parish,  did  so 
love  and  reverence  Mr.  Herbert,  that  they  would  let  their  plough 
rest  when  Mr.  Herbert's  saint's-bell  rung  to  prayers,  that  they 
might  also  offer  their  devotions  to  God  with  him  :  arid  would 
then  return  back  to  their  plough.  And  his  most  holy  life  was 
such,  that  it  begot  such  reverence  to  God,  and  to  him,  that  they 
thought  themselves  the  happier,  when  they  carried  Mr.  Herbert's 

blessing  back  with  them  to  their  labour. Thus  powerful  was 

his  reason,  and  example,  to  persuade  others  to  a  practical  piety 
and  devotion. 

And  his  constant  public  prayers  did  never  make  him  to  neglect 


his  own  private  devotions,  nor  those  prayers  that  he  thought  him- 
self bound  to  perform  with  his  family,  which  always  were  a  set 
form,  and  not  long ;  and  he  did  always  conclude  them  with  that 
collect  which  the  church  hath  appointed  for  the  day  or  week. — 
Thus  he  made  every  day's  sanctity  a  step  towards  that  kingdom 
where  impurity  cannot  enter. 

His  chiefest  recreation  was  music,  in  which  heavenly  art  he  was 
a  most  excellent  master,  and  did  himself  compose  many  divine 
hymns  and  anthems,  which  he  set  and  sung  to  his  lute  or  viol ; 
and,  though  he  was  a  lover  of  retiredness,  yet  his  love  to  music 
was  such,  that  he  went  usually  twice  every  week  on  certain 
appointed  days,  to  the  cathedral  church  in  Salisbury ;  and  at  his 
return  would  say,  "  That  his  time  spent  in  prayer,  and  cathedral 
music 7,  elevated  his  soul,  and  was  his  heaven  upon  earth."  But 
before  his  return  thence  to  Bemerton,  he  would  usually  sing  and 
play  his  part,  at  an  appointed  private  music-meeting;  and,  to 
justify  this  practice,  he  would  often  say,  "  Religion  does  not 
banish  mirth,  but  only  moderates,  and  sets  rules  to  it." 

And,  as  his  desire  to  enjoy  his  heaven  upon  earth  drew  him 
twice  every  week  to  Salisbury,  so  his  walks  thither  were  the 
occasion  of  many  happy  accidents  to  others :  of  which,  I  will 
mention  some  few. 

In  one  of  his  walks  to  Salisbury,  he  overtook  a  gentleman  that 
is  still  living  in  that  city,  and  in  their  walk  together,  Mr.  Her- 
bert took  a  fair  occasion  to  talk  with  him,  and  humbly  begged  to 
be  excused,  if  he  asked  him  some  account  of  his  faith,  and  said, 
"  I  do  this  the  rather,  because  though  you  are  not  of  my  parish, 
yet  I  receive  tythe  from  you  by  the  hand  of  your  tenant ;  and, 
sir,  I  am  the  bolder  to  do  it,  because  I  know  there  be  some 
sermon-hearers  that  be  like  those  fishes,  that  always  live  in  salt 
water,  and*yet  are  always  fresh." 

After  which  expression,  Mr.  Herbert  asked  him  some  needful 
questions,  and  having  received  his  answer,  gave  him  such  rules 
for  the  trial  of  his  sincerity,  and  for  a  practical  piety,  and  in  so 
loving  and  meek  a  manner,  that  the  gentleman  did  so  fall  in  love 
with  him,  and  his  discourse,  that  he  would  often  contrive  to 
meet  him  in  his  walk  to  Salisbury,  or  to  attend  him  back  to 
Bemerton ;  and  still  mentions  the  name  of  Mr.  George  Herbert 
with  veneration,  and  still  praiseth  God  for  the  occasion  of 
Knowing  him. 

1  Cathedral  music.']  See  above,  vol.  i.  p.  314,  note. 


In  another  of  his  Salisbury  walks,  he  met  with  a  neighbour 
minister,  and  after  some  friendly  discourse  betwixt  them,  and 
some  condolement  for  the  decay  of  piety,  and  too  general  contempt 
of  the  clergy,  Mr.  Herbert  took  occasion  to  say, 

"  One  cure  for  these  distempers,  would  be  for  the  clergy 
themselves  to  keep  the  ember-weeks  8  strictly,  and  beg  of  their 
parishioners  to  join  with  them  in  fasting  and  prayers  for  a  more 
religious  clergy. 

"And  another  cure  would  be,  for  themselves  to  restore  the 
great  and  neglected  duty  of  catechizing  9,  on  which  the  salvation 
of  so  many  of  the  poor  and  ignorant  lay-people  does  depend  ;  but 
principally,  that  the  clergy  themselves  would  be  sure  to  live 
unblameably ;  and  that  the  dignified  clergy  especially,  which 
preach  temperance,  would  avoid  surfeiting,  and  take  all  occasions 
to  express  a  visible  humility,  and  charity  in  their  lives ;  for  this 
would  force  a  love  and  an  imitation,  and  an  unfeigned  reverence 
from  all  that  knew  them  to  be  such."  (And  for  proof  of  this,  we 
need  no  other  testimony,  than  the  life  and  death  of  Dr.  Lake  *, 
late  lord  bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells.)  "This"  (said  Mr.  Her- 
bert) "  would  be  a  cure  for  the  wickedness  and  growing  atheism 
of  our  age.  And,  my  dear  brother,  till  this  be  done  by  us,  and 
done  in  earnest,  let  no  man  expect  a  reformation  of  the  manners 
of  the  laity  :  for  it  is  not  learning,  but  this,  this  only,  that  must 
do  it ;  and  till  then,  the  fault  must  lie  at  our  doors." 

In  another  walk  to  Salisbury,  he  saw  a  poor  man,  with  a 
poorer  horse,  that  was  fallen  under  his  load.  They  were  both  in 
distress,  and  needed  present  help  ;  which  Mr.  Herbert  perceiving, 
put  off  his  canonical  coat,  and  helped  the  poor  man  to  unload,  and 
after,  to  load  his  horse.  The  poor  man  blest  him  for  it ;  and  he 
blest  the  poor  man  ;  and  was  so  like  the  good  Samaritan,  that  he 
gave  him  money  to  refresh  both  himself  and  his  horse  ;  and  told 
him,  "  That  if  he  loved  himself,  he  should  be  merciful  to  his 

beast." Thus  he  left  the  poor  man,  and  at  his  coming  to  his 

musical  friends  at  Salisbury,  they  began  to  wonder  that  Mr. 
George  Herbert,  which  used  to  be  so  trim  and  clean,  came  into 

8  To  keep  the  ember-weeks."]    See  vol.  iii.  Life  of  Hooker,  p.  526,  or  Index, 
under  Ember-weeks. 

9  Duty  of  catechizing.']  See  above,  Life  of  Colet,vo\.  i.  p.  438,  n.     See  also 
Index,  under  Catechizing. 

1  Of  Dr.  Lake..']  See  a  Short  View  of  the  Life  and  Virtues  of  Dr.  Arthur 
Lake,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  prefixed  to  his  Sermons,  fol.  1 629. 


that  company  so  soiled  and  discomposed  ;  but  he  told  them  the 
occasion  :  and  when  one  of  the  company  told  him,  "  He  had  dis- 
paraged himself  by  so  dirty  an  employment ;"  his  answer  was, 
"  That  the  thought  of  what  he  had  done,  would  prove  music  to 
him  at  midnight ;  and  that  the  omission  of  it  would  have 
upbraided  and  made  discord  in  his  conscience,  whensoever  he 
should  pass  by  that  place ;  for,  if  I  be  bound  to  pray  for  all  that 
be  in  distress,  I  am  sure  that  I  am  bound  so  far  as  it  is  in  my 
power  to  practise  what  I  pray  for.  And  though  I  do  not  wish 
for  the  like  occasion  every  day,  yet  let  me  tell  you,  I  would  not 
willingly  pass  one  day  of  my  life  without  comforting  a  sad  soul, 
or  shewing  mercy  ;  and  I  praise  God  for  this  occasion : — and  now 
let's  tune  our  instruments." 

Thus,  as  our  blessed  Saviour  after  his  resurrection  did  take 
occasion  to  interpret  the  Scripture  to  Cleophas  and  that  other 
disciple,  which  he  met  with  and  accompanied  in  their  journey  to 
Emmaus ;  so  Mr.  Herbert,  in  his  path  toward  heaven,  did  daily 
take  any  fair  occasion  to  instruct  the  ignorant,  or  comfort  any 
that  were  in  affliction  ;  and  did  always  confirm  his  precepts, 
by  shewing  humility  and  mercy,  and  ministering  grace  to  the 

And  he  was  most  happy  in  his  wife's  unforced  compliance  with 
his  acts  of  charity,  whom  he  made  his  almoner,  and  paid  con- 
stantly into  her  hand  a  tenth  penny  of  what  money  he  received 
for  tythe,  and  gave  her  power  to  dispose  that  to  the  poor  of  his 
parish,  and  with  it  a  power  to  dispose  a  tenth  part  of  the  corn 
that  came  yearly  into  his  barn  ;  which  trust  she  did  most  faith- 
fully perform,  and  would  often  offer  to  him  an  account  of  her  stew- 
ardship, and  as  often  beg  an  enlargement  of  his  bounty,  for  she 
rejoiced  in  the  employment ;  and  this  was  usually  laid  out  by  her 
in  blankets  and  shoes,  for  some  such  poor  people,  as  she  knew  to 
stand  in  most  need  of  them.  This,  as  to  her  charity. — And  for 
his  own,  he  set  no  limits  to  it ;  nor  did  ever  turn  his  face  from 
any  that  he  saw  in  want,  but  would  relieve  them;  especially  his 
poor  neighbours  ;  to  the  meanest  of  whose  houses  he  would  go 
and  inform  himself  of  their  wants,  and  relieve  them  cheerfully  if 
they  were  in  distress,  and,  would  always  praise  God,  as  much  for 

being  willing,  as  for  being  able  to  do  it. And,  when  he  was 

advised  by  a  friend  to  be  more  frugal,  because  he  might  have 
children.  lii>  answer  was,  "  He  would  not  sec  the  danger  of  want 
BO  far  nfV.  luit.  ln-in^  the  Scripture  does  so  commend  clmrit; 


to  tell  us,  that  charity  is  the  top  of  Christian  virtues,  the  covering 
of  sins,  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  the  life  of  faith  :  and  that  charity 
hath  a  promise  of  the  blessings  of  this  life,  and  of  a  reward  in 
that  life  which  is  to  come ;  being  these,  and  more  excellent 
things  are  in  Scripture  spoken  of  thee,  O  charity,  and  that, 
being  all  my  tithes,  and  church-dues,  are  a  deodate  from  thee, 
0  my  God  !  make  me,  O  my  God,  so  far  to  trust  thy  promise,  as 
to  return  them  back  to  thee  ;  and,  by  thy  grace,  I  will  do  so,  in 
distributing  them  to  any  of  thy  poor  members  that  are  in 
distress,  or  do  but  bear  the  image  of  Jesus  my  master.  Sir," 
(said  he  to  his  friend)  "  my  wife  hath  a  competent  mainte- 
nance secured  her  after  my  death,  and  therefore  as  this  is 
my  prayer,  so  this  my  resolution  shall  by  God's  grace  be 

This  may  be  some  account  of  the  excellencies  of  the  active 
part 2  of  his  life ;  and,  thus  he  continued,  till  a  consumption  so 
weakened  him,  as  to  confine  him  to  his  house,  or  to  the  chapel, 
which  does  almost  join  to  it;  in  which  he  continued  to  read 
prayers  constantly  twice  every  day,  though  he  were  very  weak ; 
in  one  of  which  times  of  his  reading,  his  wife  observed  him  to 
read  in  pain,  and  told  him  so,  and,  that  it  wasted  his  spirits,  and 
weakened  him :  and  he  confessed  it  did,  but  said,  "  His  life  could 
not  be  better  spent,  than  in  the  service  of  his  master  Jesus,  who 
had  done  and  suffered  so  much  for  him.  But,"  said  he,  "  I  will 
not  be  wilful :  for  though  my  spirit  be  willing,  yet  I  find  my  flesh 
is  weak ;  and  therefore  Mr.  Bostock  shall  be  appointed  to  read 
prayers  for  me  to-morrow,  and  I  will  now  be  only  a  hearer  of 
them,  till  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality."  And  Mr.  Bostock 
did  the  next  day  undertake  and  continue  this  happy  employment, 

till  Mr.  Herbert's  death. This  Mr.  Bostock  was  a  learned  and 

virtuous  man,  an  old  friend  of  Mr.  Herbert's  and  then  his  curate 
to  the  church  of  Fulston,  which  is  a  mile  from  Bemerton,  to 

which  church  Bemerton  is  but  a  chapel  of  ease. And  this 

Mr.  Bostock  did  also  constantly  supply  the  church  service  for 
Mr.  Herbert  in  that  chapel,  when  the  music-meeting  at  Salisbury 
caused  his  absence  from  it. 

About  one  month  before  his  death,  his  friend  Mr.  Farrer  (for 
an  account  of  whom  I  am  by  promise  indebted  to  the  reader,  and 
intend  to  make  him  sudden  payment)  hearing  of  Mr.  Herbert's 

-  The  active  part.~\  "His  time  he  ever  measured  by  the  pulse,  that  native 
watch  which  God  has  set  in  every  one  of  us."  Life  by  Barnabas  Oley. 


sickness,  sent  Mr.  Edmund  Duncon  (who  is  now  rector  of  Fryer 
Barnet  in  the  county  of  Middlesex)  from  his  house  of  Gidden-hall, 
which  is  near  to  Huntingdon,  to  see  Mr.  Herbert,  and  to  assure 
him,  he  wanted  not  his  daily  prayers  for  his  recovery ;  and,  Mr. 
Duncon  was  to  return  back  to  Gidden,  with  an  account  of  Mr. 
Herbert's  condition.  Mr.  Duncon  found  him  weak,  and  at  that 
time  lying  on  his  bed,  or  on  a  pallat ;  but  at  his  seeing  Mr.  Dun- 
con,  he  raised  himself  vigorously,  saluted  him,  and  with  some 
earnestness  enquired  the  health  of  his  brother  Farrer ;  of  which 
Mr.  Duncon  satisfied  him ;  and  after  some  discourse  of  Mr.  Far- 
rer's  holy  life,  and  the  manner  of  his  constant  serving  God,  he 

said  to  Mr.  Duncon u  Sir,  I  see  by  your  habit  that  you  are  a 

priest,  and  I  desire  you  to  pray  with  me ;"  which  being  granted, 
Mr.  Duncon  asked  him  "  what  prayers  f  to  which,  Mr.  Herbert's 
answer  was,  "  0  sir,  the  prayers  of  my  mother,  the  church  of 
England,  no  other  prayers  are  equal  to  them  !  but,  at  this  time, 
I  beg  of  you  to  pray  only  the  Litany,  for  I  am  weak  and  faint ;" 
and  Mr.  Duncon  did  so.  After  which,  and  some  other  discourse 
of  Mr.  Farrer,  Mrs.  Herbert  provided  Mr.  Duncon  a  plain  sup- 
per, and  a  clean  lodging,  and  he  betook  himself  to  rest. — This 
Mr.  Duncon  tells  me ;  and  tells  me,  that  at  his  first  view  of  Mr. 
Herbert,  he  saw  majesty  and  humility  so  reconciled  in  his  looks 
and  behaviour,  as  begot  in  him  an  awful  reverence  for  his  person  ; 
and  says,  "  his  discourse  was  so  pious,  and  his  motion  so  gentle 
and  meek,  that  after  almost  forty  years,  yet  they  remain  still  fmsh 
in  his  memory." 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Duncon  left  him,  and  betook  himself  to 
a  journey  to  Bath,  but  with  a  promise  to  return  back  to  him 
within  five  days,  and  he  did  so ;  but  before  I  shall  say  any  thing 
of  what  discourse  then  fell  betwixt  them  two,  I  will  pay  my  pro- 
mised account  of  Mr.  Farrer. 

Mr.  Nicholas  Farrer  (who  got  the  reputation  of  being  called 
saint  Nicholas,  at  the  age  of  six  years)  was  born  in  London,  and 
doubtless  had  good  education  in  his  youth ;  but  certainly,  was  at 
an  early  age  made  fellow  of  Clare-hall  in  Cambridge,  where  he 
continued  to  be  eminent  for  his  piety,  temperance,  and  learning. 

About  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  he  betook  himself  to;  in  which  he  added  to  his  Latin  and  Greek,  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  all  the  languages  spoken  in  the  western  parts  of 
our  Christian  world  ;  and  understood  well  the  principles  of  their 
religion,  and  of  their  manner,  and  the  reasons  of  their  worship. 


—In  this  his  travel  he  met  with  many  persuasions  to  come  into 
a  communion  with  that  church  which  calls  itself  catholic  :  but,  he 
returned  from  his  travels  as  he  went,  eminent  for  his  obedience  to 
his  mother,  the  church  of  England.  In  his  absence  from  England, 
Mr.  Farrer's  father  (who  was  a  merchant)  allowed  him  a  liberal 
maintenance ;  and  not  long  after  his  return  into  England,  Mr. 
Farrer  had  by  the  death  of  his  father,  or  an  elder  brother,  or 
both,  an  estate  left  him,  that  enabled  him  to  purchase  land  to  the 
value  of  4  or  500£.  a  year ;  the  greatest  part  of  which  land  was  at 
Little  Gidden 3,  four  or  six  miles  from  Huntingdon,  and  about 
eighteen  from  Cambridge  :  which  place,  he  chose  for  the  privacy 
of  it,  and  for  the  hall,  which  had  the  parish  church,  or  chapel  be- 
longing, and  adjoining  near  to  it ;  for,  Mr.  Farrer  having  seen 
the  manners  and  vanities  of  the  world,  and  found  them  to  be,  as 
Mr.  Herbert  says,  "  a  nothing  between  two  dishes ;"  did  so  con- 
temn it,  that  he  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  in 
mortifications,  and  in  devotion,  and  charity,  and  to  be  always 
prepared  for  death. And  his  life  was  spent  thus. 

He,  and  his  family,  which  were  like  a  little  college,  and  about 
thirty  in  number,  did  most  of  them  keep  Lent,  and  all  ember- 
weeks  strictly,  both  in  fasting,  and  using  all  those  mortifications 
and  prayers  that  the  church  hath  appointed  to  be  then  used  : 
and  he  and  they  did  the  like  constantly  on  Fridays,  and  on  the 
vigils,  or  eves  appointed  to  be  fasted  before  the  saints-days :  and 
this  frugality  and  abstinence  turned  to  the  relief  of  the  poor :  but 
this  was  but  a  part  of  his  charity,  none  but  God  and  he  knew 
the  rest. 

This  family,  which  I  have  said  to  be  in  number  about  thirty, 
were  a  part  of  them  his  kindred,  and  the  rest  chosen  to  be  of  a 
temper  fit  to  be  moulded  into  a  devout  life  ;  and  all  of  them  were 
for  their  dispositions  serviceable  and  quiet,  and  humble,  and  free 
from  scandal.  Having  thus  fitted  himself  for  his  family,  he  did 
about  the  year  1 630,  betake  himself  to  a  constant  and  methodical 
service  of  God,  and  it  was  in  this  manner. He  being  accom- 
panied with  most  of  his  family,  did  himself  use  to  read  the 
common  prayers  (for  he  was  a  deacon)  every  day  at  the  appointed 
hours  of  ten  and  four,  in  the  parish  church  which  was  very  near 
his  house,  and  which  he  had  both  repaired  and  adorned ;  for  it 
was  fallen  into  a  great  ruin,  by  reason  of  a  depopulation  of  the 

3  Little  Gidden.']  About  four  or  five  miles  from  Leighton. 


village  before  Mr.  Farrer  bought  the  manor;  and,  he  did  also 
constantly  read  the  mattins  every  morning  at  the  hour  of  six, 
either  in  the  church,  or  in  an  oratory,  which  was  within  his  own 
house :  and  many  of  the  family  did  there  continue  with  him  after 
the  prayers  were  ended,  and  there  they  spent  some  hours  in 
singing  hymns,  or  anthems,  sometimes  in  the  church,  and  often 
to  an  organ  in  the  oratory.  And  there  they  sometimes  betook 
themselves  to  meditate,  or  to  pray  privately,  or  to  read  a  part  of 
the  New  Testament  to  themselves,  or  to  continue  their  praying 
or  reading  the  psalms :  and,  in  case  the  psalms  were  not  always 
read  in  the  day,  then  Mr.  Farrer,  and  others  of  the  congrega- 
tion, did  at  night,  at  the  ring  of  a  watch-bell,  repair  to  the 
church  or  oratory,  and  there  betake  themselves  to  prayers,  and 
lauding  God,  and  reading  the  psalms  that  had  not  been  read  in 
the  day ;  and,  when  these,  or  any  part  of  the  congregation  grew 
weary,  or  faint,  the  watch-bell  was  rung,  sometimes  before,  and 
sometimes  after  midnight :  and  then  another  part  of  the  family 
rose,  and  maintained  the  watch,  sometimes  by  praying,  or  singing 
lauds  to  God,  or  reading  the  psalms  :  and  when  after  some  hours 
they  also  grew  weary  or  faint,  they  rung  the  watch-bell,  and 
were  also  relieved  by  some  of  the  former,  or  by  a  new  part  of  the 
society,  which  continued  their  devotions,  (as  hath  been  mentioned) 

until  morning. And  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  in  this  continued 

serving  of  God,  the  psalter,  or  whole  book  of  psalms,  was  in 
every  four  and  twenty  hours,  sung  or  read  over,  from  the  first  to 
the  last  verse :  and  this  was  done  as  constantly,  as  the  sun  runs 
his  circle  every  day  about  the  world,  and  then  begins  again  the 
same  instant  that  it  ended. 

Thus  did  Mr.  Farrer,  and  his  happy  family,  serve  God  da\ 
and  night:  thus  did  they  always  behave  themselves,  as  in  his 
presence.  And,  they  did  always  eat  and  drink  by  the  strictest 
rules  of  temperance ;  eat  and  drink  so,  as  to  be  ready  to  rise  at 
midnight,  or  at  the  call  of  a  watch-bell,  and  perform  their  d 

tions  to  God. And  it  is  fit  to  tell  the  reader  that  many  of 

the  clergy  that  were  more  inclined  to  practical  piety,  and  devo- 
tiim.  than  to  doubtful  and  needless  disputations,  did  often  come 
to  Gidden-liall.  and  make  themselves  a  part  of  that  happy  society, 
and  stay  a  week  or  more,  and  then  join  with  Mr.  Farn-r.  and  the 
family  in  these  devotions,  and  assist  and  ease  him  or  them  in 
their  watch  by  ni^ht  ;  and  tli«-r  \  drvntimis  had  n- 

;han  tunnfth.-  d«»nn--tir  family  in  the  ni^ht  ;   and  the  \\atch 


was  always  kept  in  the  church  or  oratory,  unless  in  extreme  cold 
winter  nights,  and  then  it  was  maintained  in  a  parlour  which  had 
a  fire  in  it ;  and  the  parlour  was  fitted  for  that  purpose  ;  and 
this  course  of  piety,  and  great  liberality  to  his  poor  neighbours, 
Mr.  Farrer  maintained  till  his  death,  which  was  in  the  year 

Mr.  Farrer's,  and  Mr.  Herbert's  devout  lives,  were  both  so 
noted,  that  the  general  report  of  their  sanctity,  gave  them  occa- 
sion to  renew  that  slight  acquaintance  which  was  begun  at  their 
being  contemporaries  in  Cambridge ;  and  this  new  holy  friend-- 
ship was  long  maintained  without  any  interview,  but  only  by 
loving  and  endearing  letters.  And,  one  testimony  of  their 
friendship  and  pious  designs  may  appear  by  Mr.  Farcer's  com- 
mending the  Considerations  of  John  Valdesso 4  (a  book  which  he 
had  met  with  in  his  travels,  and  translated  out  of  Spanish  into 
English)  to  be  examined  and  censured  by  Mr.  Herbert  before  it 
was  made  public  ;  which  excellent  book  Mr.  Herbert  did  read, 
and  return  back  with  many  marginal  notes,  as  they  be  now 
printed  with  it :  and  with  them,  Mr.  Herbert's  affectionate 
letter  to  Mr.  Farrer. 

This  John  Valdesso  was  a  Spaniard,  and  was  for  fiis  learning 
and  virtue  much  valued  and  loved  by  the  great  emperor  Charles 
the  fifth,  whom  Valdesso  had  followed  as  a  cavalier  all  the  time 
of  his  long  and  dangerous  wars ;  and  when  Valdesso  grew  old, 

4  John  Valdesso.~\  Juan  Valdes,  a  noble  Spaniard,  knighted  by  Charles  V., 
was  one  of  the  first  who  introduced  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation  into 
Naples.  He  died  there  in  1540.  The  original  Spanish  text  of  his  "  Considera- 
tions "  has  never  been  printed.  An  Italian  version  of  the  work,  (by  whom 
made  is  uncertain,)  was  taken  to  Basle  by  Pietro  Paolo  Vergerio,  when  he 
threw  up  his  bishopric  of  Capo  d'Istria,  in  order  to  join  the  reformed  church, 
and  it  was  placed  by  him  in  the  hands  of  Celio  Secondo  Curione,  who  added 
a  preface,  and  published  it  at  Basle  in  1550.  Another  edition  was  printed  at 
Lyons  in  1563.  From  the  Italian  it  was  translated  into  French  by  C.  K. 
(Claude  de  Kerquifinem,)  and  printed  at  Paris  in  1565.  In  the  French  version 
the  author's  name  is  turned  into  "  Jean  de  Val  de  d'Esso."  Nicholas  Farrer's 
English  version  was  made  from  the  Italian,  and,  with  a  preface  by  Dr.  Jack- 
son, was  printed  at  Oxford,  by  L.  Lichfield,  in  1638,  in  4to.  Copies  of  the 
English  translation  are  in  the  Bodleian  and  Sion  College  libraries.  The 
Bodleian  and  the  British  Museum  possess  the  first  Italian  edition,  and  the 
Bodleian  has  also  the  French  translation.  It  may  be  remarked  as  singular, 
that  at  the  present  time,  (1852)  when  so  many  books  have  been  reprinted,  a 
work  translated  by  Nicholas  Farrer,  having  notes  by  George  Herbert,  and  a 
preface  by  Thomas  Jackson,  should  have  remained  unnoticed. 


and  grew  weary  both  of  war  and  the  world,  he  took  his  fair 
opportunity  to  declare  to  the  emperor,  that  his  resolution  was  to 
decline  his  majesty's  service,  and  betake  himself  to  a  quiet  and 
contemplative  life,  because  there  ought  to  be  a  vacancy  of  time 

betwixt  fighting  and  dying. The  emperor  had  himself,  for 

the  same,  or  other  like  reasons,  put  on  the  same  resolution :  but, 
God  and  himself  did,  till  then,  only  know  them;  and  he  did 
therefore  desire  Valdesso  to  consider  well  of  what  he  had  said, 
and  to  keep  his  purpose  within  his  own  breast,  till  they  two  might 
have  a  second  opportunity  of  a  friendly  discourse :  which  Val- 
desso promised  to  do. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  emperor  appoints  privately  a  day  for 
him  and  Valdesso  to  meet  again,  and,  after  a  pious  and  free  dis- 
course they  both  agreed  on  a  certain  day  to  receive  the  blessed 
sacrament  publicly :  and,  appointed  an  eloquent  and  devout  friar, 
to  preach  a  sermon  of  contempt  of  the  world,  and  of  the  hap- 
piness and  benefit  of  a  quiet  and  contemplative  life ;  which  the 

friar  did  most  affectionately. After  which  sermon,  the  emperor 

took  occasion  to  declare  openly,  "  That  the  preacher  had  begot 
in  him  a  resolution  to  lay  down  his  dignities,  and  to  forsake  the 
world,  and  betake  himself  to  a  monastical  life."  And,  he  pre- 
tended, he  had  persuaded  John  Valdesso  to  do  the  like ;  but  this 
is  most  certain,  that  after  the  emperor  had  called  his  son  Philip 
out  of  England,  and  resigned  to  him  all  his  kingdoms,  that  then 
the  emperor,  and  John  Valdesso  did  perform  their  resolutions. 

This  account  of  John  Valdesso  I  received  from  a  friend,  that 
had  it  from  the  mouth  of  Mr.  Farrer :  and,  the  reader  may  note, 
that  in  this  retirement,  John  Valdesso  writ  his  one  hundred  and 
ten  considerations,  and  many  other  treatises  of  worth,  which  want 
a  second  Mr.  Farrer  to  procure,  and  translate  them. 

After  this  account  of  Mr.  Farrer,  and  John  Valdesso,  I 
proceed  to  my  account  of  Mr.  Herbert,  and  Mr.  Duncon,  who. 
according  to  his  promise,  returned  from  the  Bath  the  fifth  day, 
ami  then  found  Mr.  Herbert  much  weaker  than  he  left  him  :  and 
therefore  the  discourse  could  not  be  long;  but  at  Mr.  Duncon's 

parting  with  him,  Mr.  Herbert  spoke  to  this  purpose "  Sir, 

I  pray  give  my  brother  Farrer  an  account  of  the  decaying  con- 
dition of  my  body,  and  tell  him,  I  beg  him  to  continue  his  daily 
prayers  for  me:  and,  let  him  know,  that  I  have  considered,  That 
God  only  is  what  In-  would  he;  and.  that  I  am  by  his  gran- 
me  now  v«.  like  him.  as  to  be  pl.--a>ed  \\ith  what  pleas.-th 


him ;  and  tell  him,  that  I  do  not  repine  but  am  pleased  with  my 
want  of  health ;  and  tell  him,  my  heart  is  fixed  on  that  place 
where  true  joy  is  only  to  be  found,  and,  that  I  long  to  be  there, 
and  do  wait  for  my  appointed  change  with  hope  and  patience." 
Having  said  this,  he  did  with  so  sweet  a  humility  as  seemed  to 
exalt  him,  bow  down  to  Mr.  Duncon,  and  with  a  thoughtful  and 

contented  look,  say  to  him "  Sir,  I  pray  deliver  this  little 

book  to  my  dear  brother  Farrer,  and  tell  him,  he  shall  find  in  it 
a  picture  of  the  many  spiritual  conflicts  that  have  past  betwixt 
God  and  my  soul,  before  I  could  subject  mine  to  the  will  of  Jesus 
my  master ;  in  whose  service  I  have  now  found  perfect  freedom  : 
desire  him  to  read  it ;  and  then,  if  he  can  think  it  may  turn  to 
the  advantage  of  any  dejected  poor  soul,  let  it  be  made  public : 
if  not,  let  him  burn  it :  for,  I  and  it  are  less  than  the  least  of 

God's  mercies." Thus  meanly  did  this  humble  man  think  of 

this  excellent  book,  which  now  bears  the  name  of  THE  TEMPLE  : 
or,  Sacred  Poems,  and  Private  Ejaculations  ;  of  which,  Mr.  Farrer 
would  say,  "  There  was  in  it  the  picture  of  a  divine  soul  in  every 
page ;  and,  that  the  whole  book  was  such  a  harmony  of  holy 
passions,  as  would  enrich  the  world  with  pleasure  and  piety.11 
And,  it  appears  to  have  done  so :  for  there  have  been  more  than 
twenty  thousand  of  them  sold  since  the  first  impression. 

And  this  ought  to  be  noted,  that  when  Mr.  Farrer  sent  this 
book  to  Cambridge  to  be  licensed  for  the  press,  the  vice-chancellor 
would  by  no  means  allow  the  two  so  much  noted  verses, 

"  Religion  stands  a  tip-toe  in  our  land, 
Ready  to  pass 5  to  the  American  strand," 

5  Ready  to  pass.]  "  Now,  I  beseech  you,  let  me  know  what  your  opinion 
is  of  our  English  plantations  in  the  New  World.  Heretofore  I  have  won- 
dered in  my  thoughts  at  the  providence  of  God  concerning  that  world,  not 
discovered  till  this  old  world  of  ours  is  almost  at  an  end ;  and  then  no  foot- 
steps found  of  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God,  much  less  of  Christ.  And 
then  considering  our  English  plantations  of  late,  and  the  opinion  of  many 
grave  divines  concerning  the  Gospel's  fleeting  westward,  sometimes  I  have  had 
such  thoughts,  why  may  not  that  be  the  place  of  New  Jerusalem  ?  But  you 
have  handsomely  and  fully  cleared  me  from  such  odd  conceits.  But  what  ? 
I  pray  you,  shall  our  English  there  degenerate  and  join  themselves  with  Gog 
and  Magog.  We  have  heard  lately  divers  ways,  that  our  people  there  have  no 
hope  of  the  conversion  of  the  natives.  And  the  very  week  after  I  received 
your  last  letter,  I  saw  a  letter  written  from  New  England,  discoursing  of  an 
impossibility  of  subsisting  there;  and  seems  to  prefer  the  confession  of  God's 
truth  in  any  condition  here  in  Old  England  father  than  run  over  to  enjoy 

VOL.   IV.  E 


to  be  printed ;  and  Mr.  Farrer  would  by  no  means  allow  the 
book  to  be  printed,  and  want  them.  But  after  some  time,  and 
some  arguments,  for  and  against  their  being  made  public,  the 
vice-chancellor  said,  "  I  knew  Mr.  Herbert  well,  and  know  that 
he  had  many  heavenly  speculations,  and  was  a  divine  poet,  but,  I 
hope  the  world  will  not  take  him  to  be  an  inspired  prophet,  and 
therefore  I  licence  the  whole  book."  So  that  it  came  to  be 
printed,  without  the  diminution  or  addition  of  a  syllable,  since  it 
was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Duncon,  save  only,  that  Mr. 
Farrer  hath  added  that  excellent  preface  that  is  printed,  be- 
fore it. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Duncon*s  leaving  Mr.  Herbert,  (which  was 
about  three  weeks  before  his  death)  his  old  and  dear  friend  Mr. 
Woodnot  came  from  London  to  Bemerton,  and  never  left  him, 
till  he  had  seen  him  draw  his  last  breath ;  and  closed  his  eyes  on 
his  death-bed.  In  this  time  of  his  decay,  he  was  often  visited  and 
prayed  for  by  all  the  clergy  that  lived  near  to  him,  especially  by 
his  friends  the  bishop  and  prebends  of  the  cathedral  church  in 
Salisbury ;  but  by  none  more  devoutly  than  his  wife,  his  three 
nieces  (then  a  part  of  his  family)  and  Mr.  Woodnot,  who  were 
the  sad  witnesses  of  his  daily  decay ;  to  whom  he  would  often 

speak  to  this  purpose. u  I  now  look  back  upon  the  pleasures 

of  my  life  past,  and  see  the  content  I  have  taken  in  beauty,  in 
wit,  in  music,  and  pleasant  conversation,  are  now  all  past  by  me, 
like  a  dream,  or  as  a  shadow  that  returns  not,  and  are  now  all 
become  dead  to  me,  or  I  to  them ;  and  I  see  that  as  my  father 
and  generation  hath  done  before  me,  so  I  also  shall  now  suddenly 
(with  Job)  make  my  led  also  in  the  dark ;  and,  I  praise  God  I  am 
prepared  for  it ;  and  I  praise  him,  that  I  am  not  to  learn  patience, 
now  I  stand  in  such  need  of  it ;  and,  that  I  have  practised  mor- 
tification, and  endeavoured  to  die  daily,  that  I  might  not  die 
eternally ;  and,  my  hope  is,  that  I  shall  shortly  leave  this  valley 

their  liberty  there  :  yea,  and  that  the  Gospel  is  likely  to  be  more  dear  in  New 
England  than  in  Old  :  and  lastly,  unless  they  be  exceeding  careful,  and  God 
wonderfully  merciful,  they  are  like  to  lose  that  life  and  zeal  for  God  and  his 
truth  in  New  England,  which  they  enjoyed  in  Old :  as  whereof  they  have 
already  woeful  experience,  and  many  there  feel  it  to  their  smart."  Letter 
of  Dr'.  W.  Twisse  to  Joseph  Mede,  dated  March  2,  1634.  Mede's  Works, 
p.  799. 

Barnabas  Oley,  in  his  Life  of  Herbert,  referring  to  the  same  lines,  says, 
"  I  pray  God  he  may  prove  a  true  prophet  for  poor  America,  not  nyainst  poor 


of  tears,  and  be  free  from  all  fevers  and  pain :  and,  which  will  be 
a  more  happy  condition,  I  shall  be  free  from  sin,  and  all  the 
temptations  and  anxieties  that  attend  it ;  and  this  being  past,  I 
shall  dwell  in  the  new  Jerusalem,  dwell  there  with  men  made 
perfect ;  dwell,  where  these  eyes  shall  see  my  master  and  Saviour 
Jesus ;  and,  with  him  see  my  dear  mother,  and  all  my  relations 

and  friends. But  I  must  die,  or  not  come  to  that  happy  place. 

And,  this  is  my  content,  that  I  am  going  daily  towards  it ;  and, 
that  every  day  which  I  have  lived  hath  taken  a  part  of  my  ap- 
pointed time  from  me ;  and,  that  I  shall  live  the  less  time,  for, 
having  lived  this,  and  the  day  past." — —These  and  the  like 
expressions,  which  he  uttered  often,  may  be  said  to  be  his  enjoy- 
ment of  heaven,  before  he  enjoyed  it. The  Sunday  before  his 

death,  he  rose  suddenly  from  his  bed  or  couch,  called  for  one  of 
his  instruments,  took  it  into  his  hand,  and  said 

"  My  God,  my  God, 
My  music  shall  find  thee, 

And  every  string 
Shall  have  his  attribute  to  sing." 

And  having  tuned  it,  he  played  and  sung : 

"  The  Sundays  of  man's  life, 

Threaded  together  on  time's  string, 
Make  bracelets,  to  adorn  the  wife 

Of  the  eternal,  glorious  King  : 
On  Sundays,  heaven's  door  stands  ope ; 

Blessings  are  plentiful  and  rife, 
More  plentiful  than  hope." 

Thus  he  sung  on  earth  such  hymns  and  anthems  as  the  angels 
and  he,  and  Mr.  Farrer,  now  sing  in  heaven. 

Thus  he  continued  meditating  and  praying,  and  rejoicing,  till 
the  day  of  his  death ;  and  on  that  day,  said  to  Mr.  Woodnot, 
"  My  dear  friend,  I  am  sorry  I  have  nothing  to  present  to  my 
merciful  God  but  sin  and  misery  ;  but  the  first  is  pardoned :  and 
a  few  hours  will  now  put  a  period  to  the  latter ;  for  I  shall  sud- 
denly go  hence  and  be  no  more  seen."  Upon  which  expression, 
Mr.  Woodnot  took  occasion  to  remember  him  of  the  re-edifying 
Layton  church,  and  his  many  acts  of  mercy ;  to  which  he  made 
answer,  saying,  "  They  be  good  works,  if  they  be  sprinkled  with 
the  blood  of  Christ,  and  not  otherwise."  After  this  discourse  he 
became  more  restless,  and  his  soul  seemed  to  be  weary  of  her 
earthly  tabernacle ;  and  this  uneasiness  became  so  visible,  that 

K  2 


his  wife,  his  three  nieces,  and  Mr.  Woodnot,  stood  constantly 
about  his  bed,  beholding  him  with  sorrow,  and  an  unwillingness 
to  lose  the  sight  of  him  whom  they  could  not  hope  to  see  much 

longer. As  they  stood  thus  beholding  him,  his  wife  observed 

him  to  breathe  faintly,  and  with  much  trouble  ;  and  observed  him 
to  fall  into  a  sudden  agony ;  which  so  surprised  her,  that  she  fell 
into  a  sudden  passion,  and  required  of  him  to  know,  "  how  he 
did  f  to  which  his  answer  was,  "  That  he  had  past  a  conflict  with 
his  last  enemy,  and  had  overcome  him,  by  the  merits  of  his  master 
Jesus."  After  which  answer,  he  looked  up,  and  saw  his  wife  and 
nieces  weeping  to  an  extremity,  and  charged  them,  u  If  they 
loved  him,  to  withdraw  into  the  next  room,  and  there  pray  every 
one  alone  for  him,  for  nothing  but  their  lamentations  could  make 
his  death  uncomfortable.1'*  To  which  request,  their  sighs  and 
tears  would  not  suffer  them  to  make  any  reply :  but  they  yielded 
him  a  sad  obedience,  leaving  only  with  him,  Mr.  Woodnot,  and 
Mr.  Bostock.  Immediately  after  they  had  left  him,  he  said  to 
Mr.  Bostock,  "  Pray  sir  open  that  door,  then  look  into  that 
cabinet,  in  which  you  may  easily  find  my  last  will,  and  give  it  into 
my  hand ;"  which  being  done  Mr.  Herbert  delivered  it  into  the 
hand  of  Mr.  Woodnot,  and  said,  "  My  old  friend,  I  here  deliver 
you  my  last  will,  in  which  you  will  find  that  I  have  made  you  my 
sole  executor  for  the  good  of  my  wife  and  nieces ;  and  I  desire  you 
to  shew  kindness  to  them,  as  they  shall  need  it.  I  do  not  desire 
you  to  be  just :  for,  I  know  you  will  be  so  for  your  own  sake ; 
but,  I  charge  you,  by  the  religion  of  our  friendship,  to  be  careful 
of  them.1'  And  having  obtained  Mr.  Woodnot^s  promise  to  be 
so ;  he  said,  "  I  am  now  ready  to  die :"  after  which  words  he 
said,  "  Lord,  forsake  me  not  now  my  strength  faileth  me :  but 
grant  me  mercy  for  the  merits  of  my  Jesus ;  and  now  Lord, 
Lord  now  receive  my  soul.11  And  with  those  words  he  breathed 
forth  his  divine  soul,  without  any  apparent  disturbance:  Mr. 
Woodnot,  and  Mr.  Bostock,  attending  his  last  breath,  and  closing 
his  eyes. 

Thus  he  lived,  and  thus  he  died  like  a  saint,  unspotted  of  the 
world,  full  of  alms-deeds,  full  of  humility,  and  all  the  examples  of 
a  virtuous  life;  which  I  cannot  conclude  better,  than  with  this 
borrowed  observation  : 

"...  All  must  to  their  cold  graves ; 
But  the  religious  actions  of  the  just, 
Smell  sweet  in  death,  and  blossom  in  the  dust." 


Mr.  George  Herbert's  have  done  so  to  this,  and  will  doubtless 

do  so  to  succeeding  generations. 1  have  but  this  to  say  more 

of  him :   that  if  Andrew  Melvin  died  before  him,  then  George 

Herbert  died  without  an  enemy. 1  wish  (if  God  shall  be  so 

pleased)  that  I  may  be  so  happy  as  to  die  like  him. 

Iz.  WA. 

There  is  a  debt  justly  due  to  the  memory  of  Mr.  Herbert's 
virtuous  wife ;  a  part  of  which  I  will  endeavour  to  pay,  by  a  very 
short  account  of  the  remainder  of  her  life,  which  shall  follow. 

She  continued  his  disconsolate  widow  about  six  years,  bemoan- 
ing herself,  and  complaining,  "  that  she  had  lost  the  delight  of  her 
eyes,"  but  more  "  that  she  had  lost  the  spiritual  guide  for  her  pool- 
soul  ;"  and  would  often  say,  "  0  that  I  had  like  holy  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  treasured  up  all  his  sayings  in  my  heart :  but 
since  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  that,  I  will  labour  to  live  like 
him,  that  where  he  now  is,  1  may  be  also."  And  she  would  often 
say  (as  the  prophet  David  for  his  son  Absalom)  0  that  Iliad  died 
for  him !  Thus  she  continued  mourning,  till  time  and  conversa- 
tion had  so  moderated  her  sorrows,  that  she  became  the  happy 
wife  of  sir  Robert  Cook  of  Highnam  in  the  county  of  Gloucester 
knight :  and  though  he  put  a  high  value  on  the  excellent  accom- 
plishments of  her  mind  and  body ;  and  was  so  like  Mr.  Herbert, 
as  not  to  govern  like  a  master,  but  as  an  affectionate  husband ; 
yet,  she  would  even  to  him  often  take  occasion  to  mention  the 
name  of  Mr.  George  Herbert,  and  say,  "  That  name  must  live  in 

her  memory,  till  she  put  off  mortality." By  sir  Robert,  she  had 

only  one  child,  a  daughter,  whose  parts  and  plentiful  estate  make 
her  happy  in  this  world,  and  her  well  using  of  them,  gives  a  fail- 
testimony,  that  she  will  be  so  in  that  which  is  to  come. 

Mrs.  Herbert  was  the  wife  of  sir  Robert  eight  years,  and  lived 
his  widow  about  fifteen ;  all  which  time  she  took  a  pleasure  in 
mentioning,  and  commending  the  excellencies  of  Mr.  George 
Herbert.  She  died  in  the  year  1663,  and  lies  buried  at  Highnam : 
Mr.  Herbert  in  his  own  church,  under  the  altar,  and  covered  with 
a  grave-stone  without  any  inscription. 

This  lady  Cook  had  preserved  many  of  Mr.  Herbert's  private 
writings,  which  she  intended  to  make  public :  but  they,  and 
Highnam  house,  were  burnt  together,  by  the  late  rebels,  and  so 
lost  to  posterity.  I.  W. 


LETTERS  written  by  Mr.  GEORGE  HERBERT,  at  his  being  in  Cam- 
bridge: with  others  to  his  mother,  the  lady  MAGDALEN  HER- 
BERT, written  by  JOHN  DONNE,  afterwards  Dean  of  St.  PauFs. 

Mr.  GEORGE  HERBERT  to  N.  F.6  the  translator  of  Valdesso. 

My  dear  and  deserving  brother,  your  Valdesso  I  now  return 
with  many  thanks,  and  some  notes,  in  which  perhaps  you  will 
discover  some  care,  which  I  forbear  not  in  the  midst  of  my  griefs ; 
first  for  your  sake ;  because,  I  would  do  nothing  negligently  that 
you  commit  unto  me ;  secondly  for  the  author's  sake,  whom  I 
conceive  to  have  been  a  true  servant  of  God ;  and  to  such,  and 
all  that  is  theirs,  I  owe  diligence ;  thirdly  for  the  church's  sake, 
to  whom  by  printing  it,  I  would  have  you  consecrate  it.  You 
owe  the  church  a  debt,  and  God  hath  put  this  into  your  hands 
(as  he  sent  the  fish  with  money  to  St.  Peter)  to  discharge  it : 
happily  also  with  this  (as  his  thoughts  are  fruitful)  intending  the 
honour  of  his  servant  the  author,  who  being  obscured  in  his  own 
country,  he  would  have  to  flourish  in  this  land  of  light,  and 
region  of  the  gospel,  among  his  chosen.  It  is  true,  there  are 
some  things  which  I  like  not  in  him,  as  my  fragments  will  express, 
when  you  read  them ;  nevertheless,  I  wish  you  by  all  means  to 
publish  it ;  for  these  three  eminent  things  observable  therein : 
first,  that  God  in  the  midst  of  popery  should  open  the  eyes  of 
one  to  understand  and  express  so  clearly  and  excellently  the 
intent  of  the  gospel  in  the  acceptation  of  Christ's  righteousness  : 
(as  he  sheweth  through  all  his  considerations,)  a  thing  strangely 
buried,  and  darkened  by  the  adversaries,  and  their  great  stum- 
bling block.  Secondly,  the  great  honour  and  reverence  which  he 
every  where  bears  towards  our  dear  master  and  lord ;  concluding 
every  consideration  almost  with  his  holy  name,  and  setting  his 
merit  forth  so  piously ;  for  which  I  do  so  love  him,  that  were 
there  nothing  else,  I  would  print  it,  that  with  it  the  honour  of  my 
lord  might  be  published.  Thirdly,  the  many  pious  rules  of  order- 
ing our  life,  about  mortification,  and  observation  of  God's  king- 
dom within  us,  and  the  working  thereof;  of  which  he  was  a  very 
diligent  observer.  These  three  things  are  very  eminent  in  the 

6  N.  F.]  Nicholas  Ferrar,  see  p.  47. 


author,  and  overweigh  the  defects  (as  I  conceive)  towards  the 
publishing  thereof. 

From  his  Parsonage  of  Bemerton,  near 
Salisbury,  Sept.  29,  1632. 

To  SIR  J.  D  / 


Though  I  had  the  best  wit  in  the  world,  yet  it  would  easily  tire 
me,  to  find  out  variety  of  thanks  for  the  diversity  of  your  favours, 
if  I  sought  to  do  so  ;  but,  I  profess  it  not :  and  therefore  let  it  be 
sufficient  for  me,  that  the  same  heart,  which  you  have  won  long 
since,  is  still  true  to  you,  and  hath  nothing  else  to  answer  your 
infinite  kindnesses,  but  a  constancy  of  obedience ;  only  hereafter 
I  will  take  heed  how  I  propose  my  desires  unto  you,  since  I  find 
you  so  willing  to  yield  to  my  requests ;  for,  since  your  favours  come 
on  horseback,  there  is  reason,  that  my  desires  should  go  on  foot : 
neither  do  I  make  any  question,  but  that  you  have  performed 
your  kindness  to  the  full,  and  that  the  horse  is  every  way  fit  for 
me,  and  I  will  strive  to  imitate  the  completeness  of  your  love, 
with  being  in  some  proportion,  and  after  my  manner, 

Your  most  obedient  servant, 


For  my  dear  sick  sister 8. 

Most  dear  Sister, 

Think  not  my  silence  forge  tfulness ;  or,  that  my  love  is  as  dumb 
as  my  papers ;  though  businesses  may  stop  my  hand,  yet  my 
heart,  a  much  better  member,  is  always  with  you  :  and  which  is 
more,  with  our  good  and  gracious  God,  incessantly  begging  some 
ease  of  your  pains,  with  that  earnestness,  that  becomes  your 

7  Sir  J.  D.]  Sir  John  Danvers,  step-father  to  George  Herbert. 

8  Sick  sister.']  Elizabeth,  the  eldest,  married  to  Sir  Henry  Jones.     "  The 
latter  end  of  her  time  was  the  most  sickly  and  miserable  that  hath  been 
known  in  our  times,  while  for  the  space  of  about  fourteen  years  she  lan- 
guished and  pined  away  to  skin  and  bones,  and  at  last  died  in  London." 
Life  of  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  p.  15. 


griefs,  and  my  love.  God  who  knows  and  sees  this  writing,  knows 
also  that  my  soliciting  him  has  been  much,  and  my  tears  many 
for  you ;  judge  me  then  by  those  waters,  and  not  by  my  ink,  and 
then  you  shall  justly  value 

Your  most  truly, 

most  heartily, 

affectionate  brother, 

and  servant, 

Decem.  6,  1620.  GEORGE  HEUBEI;  i 

Trin.  Coll. 


I  dare  no  longer  be  silent,  least  while  I  think  I  am  modest,  I 
wrong  both  myself,  and  also  the  confidence  my  friends  have  in 
me ;  wherefore  I  will  open  my  case  unto  you,  which  I  think 
deserves  the  reading  at  the  least ;  and  it  is  this,  I  want  books 
extreamly.  You  know  sir,  how  I  am  now  setting  foot  into 
divinity,  to  lay  the  platform  of  my  future  life,  and  shall  I  then  be 
fain  always  to  borrow  books,  and  build  on  another's  foundation  ? 
What  tradesman  is  there  who  will  set  up  without  his  tools? 
Pardon  my  boldness  sir,  it  is  a  most  serious  case,  nor  can  I  write 
coldly  in  that  wherein  consisteth  the  making  good  of  my  former 
education,  of  obeying  that  spirit  which  hath  guided  me  hitherto, 
and  of  atchieving  my  (I  dare  say)  holy  ends.  This  also  is  aggra- 
vated, in  that  I  apprehend  what  my  friends  would  have  been  for- 
ward to  say,  if  I  had  taken  ill  courses,  "  Follow  your  book,  and 
you  shall  want  nothing."  You  know  sir,  it  is  their  ordinary 
speech,  and  now  let  them  make  it  good ;  for  since  I  hope  I  have 
not  deceived  their  expectation,  let  not  them  deceive  mine. — But 
perhaps  they  will  say,  "  You  are  sickly,  you  must  not  study  too 
hard."  It  is  true  (God  knows)  I  am  weak,  yet  not  so  but  that 
every  day  I  may  step  one  step  towards  my  journey's  end  ;  and  I 
love  my  friends  so  well,  as  that  if  all  things  proved  not  well,  I 
had  rather  the  fault  should  lie  on  me,  than  on  them. — But  they 
will  object  again,  "What  becomes  of  your  annuity?"  Sir,  ii' 
tin-re  l»i  aii\  truth  in  me,  I  find  it  little  enough  to  keep  me  in 
health.  You  know  I  was  sick  last  vacation,  neither  am  I  yet 

9  Sir.]  Sir  John  Danvers. 


recovered,  so  that  I  am  fain  ever  and  anon,  to  buy  somewhat 
tending  towards  my  health,  for  infirmities  are  both  painful  and 
costly.  Now  this  Lent  I  am  forbid  utterly  to  eat  any  fish,  so 
that  I  am  fain  to  diet  in  my  chamber  at  mine  own  cost ;  for  in 
our  public  halls,  you  know,  is  nothing  but  fish  and  whit-meats. 
Out  of  Lent  also  twice  a  week,  on  Fridays  and  Saturdays,  I  must 
do  so,  which  yet  sometimes  I  fast.  Sometimes  also  I  ride  to 
Newmarket,  and  there  lie  a  day  or  two  for  fresh  air ;  all  which 
tend  to  avoiding  of  costlier  matters,  if  I  should  fall  absolutely 
sick.  I  protest  and  vow,  I  even  study  thrift,  and  yet  I  am  scarce 
able  with  much  ado  to  make  one  half  yearns  allowance,  shake  hands 
with  the  other :  and  yet  if  a  book  of  four  or  five  shillings  come  in 
my  way,  I  buy  it,  though  I  fast  for  it ;  yea,  sometimes  of  ten 
shillings.  But  alas  sir,  what  is  that  to  those  infinite  volumes  of 
divinity,  which  yet  every  day  swell,  and  grow  bigger.  Noble  sir, 
pardon  my  boldness,  and  consider  but  these  three  things.  First, 
the  bulk  of  divinity.  Secondly,  the  time  when  I  desire  this 
(which  is  now,  when  I  must  lay  the  foundation  of  my  whole  life.) 
Thirdly,  what  I  desire,  and  to  what  end,  not  vain  pleasures,  nor 
to  a  vain  end.  If  then,  sir,  there  be  any  course,  either  by  engaging 
my  future  annuity,  or  any  other  way,  I  desire  you,  sir,  to  be  my 
mediator  to  them  in  my  behalf. 

Now  I  write  to  you,  sir,  because  to  you  I  have  ever  opened  my 
heart ;  and  have  reason,  by  the  patents  of  your  perpetual  favour 
to  do  so  still,  for  I  am  sure  you  love 

Your  faithfullest  servant, 


March  18,  1617. 
Trin.  Coll 


This  week  hath  loaded  me  with  your  favours.  I  wish  I  could 
have  come  in  person  to  thank  you,  but  it  is  not  possible ;  presently 
after  Michaelmas,  I  am  to  make  an  oration  to  the  whole  university 
of  an  hour  long  in  Latin,  and  my  Lincoln  journey  hath  set  me 
much  behind  hand.  Neither  can  I  so  much  as  go  to  Bugden,  and 
deliver  your  letter,  yet  have  I  sent  it  thither  by  a  faithful  mes- 
senger this  day.  I  beseech  you  all,  you  and  my  dear  mother  and 

1  Sir.']  Sir  John  Danvers. 


sister  to  pardon  me,  for  my  Cambridge  necessities  are  stronger  to 
tie  me  here,  than  your's  to  London.  If  I  could  possibly  have 
come,  none  should  have  done  my  message  to  sir  Fr.  Nethersole 
for  me ;  he  and  I  are  ancient  acquaintance,  and  I  have  a  strong 
opinion  of  him,  that  if  he  can  do  me  a  courtesy,  he  will  of  himself; 
yet  your  appearing  in  it  affects  me  strangely.  I  have  sent  you 
here  inclosed  a  letter  from  our  master  in  my  behalf,  which  if  you 
can  send  to  sir  Francis  before  his  departure,  it  will  do  well,  for 
it  expresseth  the  university's  inclination  to  me  ;  yet  if  you  cannot 
send  it  with  much  convenience,  it  is  no  matter,  for  the  gentleman 
needs  no  incitation  to  love  me. 

The  orator's  place  (that  you  may  understand  what  it  is)  is  the 
finest  place  in  the  university,  though  not  the  gainfullest.  Yet 
that  will  be  about  30£.  per  an.  but  the  commodiousness  is  beyond 
the  revenue;  for  the  orator  writes  all  the  university  letters, 
makes  all  the  orations,  be  it  to  king,  prince,  or  whatever  comes 
to  the  university.  To  requite  these  pains,  he  takes  place  next 
the  doctors,  is  at  all  their  assemblies  and  meetings,  and  sits  above 
the  proctors,  is  regent  or  non-regent  at  his  pleasure,  and  such  like 
gaynesses,  which  will  please  a  young  man  well. 

I  long  to  hear  from  sir  Francis.  I  pray  sir  send  the  letter  you 
receive  from  him  to  me  as  soon  as  you  can,  that  I  may  work  the 
heads  to  my  purpose.  I  hope  I  shall  get  this  place  without  all 
your  London  helps,  of  which  I  am  very  proud ;  not  but  that  I 
joy  in  your  favours,  but  that  you  may  see,  that  if  all  fail,  yet  I 
am  able  to  stand  on  mine  own  legs.  Noble  sir,  I  thank  you  for 
your  infinite  favours,  I  fear  only  that  I  have  omitted  some 
fitting  circumstance,  yet  you  will  pardon  my  haste,  which  is  very 
great,  though  never  so,  but  that  I  have  both  time  and  work 
to  be 

Your  extream  servant, 



I  have  received  the  things  you  sent  me,  safe ;  and  now  the 
only  thing  I  long  for,  is  to  hear  of  my  dear  sick  sister ;  first,  how 
her  health  fares,  next,  whether  my  peace  be  yet  made  with  IK  r 

"  Sir.]  Sir  John  Danvers. 


concerning  my  unkind  departure.  Can  I  be  so  happy,  as  to  hear 
of  both  these,  that  they  succeed  well  ?  Is  it  not  too  much  for 
me  ?  Good  sir,  make  it  plain  to  her,  that  I  loved  her  even  in  my 
departure,  in  looking  to  her  son,  and  my  charge.  I  suppose  she 
is  not  disposed  to  spend  her  eye-sight  on  a  piece  of  paper,  or  else 
I  had  wrote  to  her :  when  I  shall  understand  that  a  letter  will  be 
seasonable,  my  pen  is  ready. — Concerning  the  orator's  place  all 
goes  well  yet :  the  next  Friday  it  is  tried,  and  accordingly  you 
shall  hear.  I  have  forty  businesses  in  my  hands  ;  your  courtesy 
will  pardon  the  haste  of 

Your  humble  servant, 

Jan.  19,  1619. 
Trin.  Coll. 


I  understand  by  sir  Francis  NethersoFs  letter,  that  he  fears  I 
have  not  fully  resolved  of  the  matter,  since  this  place  being  civil 
may  divert  me  too  much  from  divinity,  at  which,  not  without 
cause  he  thinks  I  aim.  But,  I  have  wrote  him  back,  that  this 
dignity  hath  no  such  earthiness  in  it,  but  it  may  very  well  be 
joined  with  heaven ;  or  if  it  had  to  others,  yet  to  me  it  should 
not,  for  ought  I  yet  knew :  and  therefore  I  desire  him  to  send 
me  a  direct  answer  in  his  next  letter.  I  pray  sir  therefore,  cause 
this  inclosed  to  be  carried  to  his  brother's  house  of  his  own  name 
(as  I  think)  at  the  sign  of  the  Pedler  and  the  Pack  on  London- 
bridge,  for  there  he  assigns  me.  I  cannot  yet  find  leisure  to 
write  to  my  lord,  or  sir  Benjamin  Ruddyard ;  but  I  hope  I  shall 
shortly.  Though  for  the  reckoning  of  your  favours  I  shall  never 
find  time  and  paper  enough,  yet  I  am 

Your  readiest  servant, 

Octob.  6,  1619. 
Trin.  Coll. 

I  remember  my  most  humble  duty  to  my  mother,  who  cannot 
think  me  lazy,  since  I  rode  two  hundred  miles  to  see  a  sister, 
in  a  way  I  knew  not,  in  the  midst  of  much  business,  and  all 
in  a  fortnight,  not  long  since. 

3  Sir.]  Sir  John  Danvers. 


To  the  truly  nolle  SIR  J.  D.4 

I  understand  by  a  letter  from  my  brother  Henry,  that  he  hath 
bought  a  parcel  of  books  for  me,  and  that  they  are  coming  over. 
Now  though  they  have  hitherto  travelled  upon  your  charge,  yet 
if  my  sister  were  acquainted  that  they  are  ready,  I  dare  say  she 
would  make  good  her  promise  of  taking  five  or  six  pound  upon 
her,  which  she  hath  hitherto  deferred  to  do,  not  of  herself,  but 
upon  the  want  of  those  books  which  were  not  to  be  got  in 
England.  For  that  which  surmounts,  though  your  noble  dispo- 
sition is  infinitely  free,  yet  I  had  rather  fly  to  my  old  ward,  that 
if  any  cause  could  be  taken  of  doubling  my  annuity  now,  upon 
condition  that  I  should  surcease  from  all  title  to  it  after  I 
entered  into  a  benefice,  I  should  be  most  glad  to  entertain  it, 
and  both  pay  for  the  surplusage  of  these  books,  and  for  ever  after 
cease  my  clamorous  and  greedy  bookish  requests.  It  is  high 
time  now  that  I  should  be  no  more  a  burden  to  you,  since  I  can 
never  answer  what  I  have  already  received;  for  your  favours 
are  so  ancient,  that  they  prevent  my  memory,  and  yet  still  grow 

Your  humble  servant, 


I  remember  my  most  humble  duty  to  my  mother.  I  have  wrote 
to  my  dear  sick  sister  this  week  already,  and  therefore  now  I 
hope  may  be  excused. 

I  pray  sir,  pardon  my  boldness  of  inclosing  my  brother's  letter  in 
yourX  for  it  was  because  I  know  your  lodging,  but  not  his. 

To  the  worthiest  Lady^  MRS.  MAGDALEN  HERBERT. 


Every  excuse  hath  in  it  somewhat  of  accusation,  and  since  I 
am  innocent,  and  yet  must  excuse,  how  shall  I  do  for  that  part 
of  accusing?  By  my  troth,  as  desperate  and  perplrxcd  nun 
L;TO\V  from  tlicucc  bold  ;  so  must  I  take  the  boldness  of  accusing 
you,  who  would  draw  so  dark  a  curtain  betwixt  UK.-  and  your  pur- 

4  Sir.}  Sir  John  Danvcrs. 


poses,  as  that  I  had  no  glimmering,  neither  of  your  goings,  nor 
the  way  which  my  letters  might  haunt.  Yet,  I  have  given  this 
licence  to  travel,  but  I  know  not  whither,  nor  it.  It  is  therefore 
rather  a  pinnace  to  discover ;  and  the  intire  colony  of  letters,  of 
hundreds  and  fifties,  must  follow;  whose  employment  is  more 
honourable,  than  that  which  our  state  meditates  to  Virginia, 
because  you  are  worthier  than  all  that  country,  of  which  that  is 
a  wretched  inch  ;  for  you  have  a  better  treasure,  and  a  harmless- 
ness.  If  this  sound  like  a  flattery,  tear  it  out.  I  am  to  my 
letters  as  rigid  a  puritan,  as  Csesar  was  to  his  wife.  I  can  as  ill 
endure  a  suspitious  and  misinterpretable  word  as  a  fault ;  but 
remember  that  nothing  is  flattery  which  the  speaker  believes; 
and  of  the  grossest  flatteries  there  is  this  good  use,  that  they  tell 
us  what  we  should  be.  But  madam,  you  are  beyond  instruc- 
tion, and  therefore  there  can  belong  to  you  only  praise;  of 
which  though  you  be  no  good  hearer,  yet  allow  all  my  letters 
leave  to  have  in  them  one  part  of  it,  which  is  thankfulness 
towards  you. 

Your  unworthiest  servant, 

Except  your  excepting 

have  mended  him, 

Mickin,  JOHN  DONNE. 

July  11,  1607. 

To  the  worthiest  Lady,  MRS.  MAGDALEN  HERBERT. 


This  is  my  second  letter,  in  which  though  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  is  good,  yet  this  is  the  worst  that  I  must  be  a  great  part 
of  it ;  yet  to  me  that  is  recompensed,  because  you  must  be 
mingled.  After  I  knew  you  were  gone  (for  I  must  little  less 
than  accusingly  tell  you,  I  knew  not  you  would  go)  I  sent  my 
first  letter,  like  a  Bevis  of  Hampton,  to  seek  adventures.  This 
day  I  came  to  town,  and  to  the  best  part  of  it,  your  house ;  for 
your  memory  is  a  state-cloth  and  presence,  which  I  reverence, 
though  you  be  away ;  though  I  need  not  seek  that  there,  which 
I  have  about  and  within  me.  There,  though  I  found  my  accusa- 
tion, yet  any  thing  to  which  your  hand  is,  is  a  pardon ;  yet  I 
would  not  burn  my  first  letter,  because  as  in  great  destiny  no 
small  passage  can  be  omitted  or  frustrated,  so  in  my  resolution  of 


writing  almost  daily  to  you,  I  would  have  no  link  of  the  chain 
broke  by  me,  both  because  my  letters  interpret  one  another,  and 
because  only  their  number  can  give  them  weight.  If  I  had  your 
commission  and  instructions  to  do  you  the  service  of  a  legier 
ambassador  here,  I  could  say  something  of  the  countess  of  Devon, 
of  the  states,  and  such  things.  But  since  to  you,  who  are  not 
only  a  world  alone,  but  the  monarchy  of  the  world  yourself, 
nothing  can  be  added,  especially  by  me ;  I  will  sustain  myself 
with  the  honour  of  being 

Your  servant  extraordinary, 

And  without  place, 

London,  July  23,  1607. 

To  the  worthiest  Lady,  MRS.  MAGDALEN  HERBERT. 


As  we  must  die  before  we  can  have  full  glory  and  happiness,  so 
before  I  can  have  this  degree  of  it,  as  to  see  you  by  a  letter,  I 
must  almost  die,  that  is,  come  to  London,  to  plaguy  London ;  a 
place  full  of  danger,  and  vanity,  and  vice,  though  the  court  be 
gone.  And  such  it  will  be,  till  your  return  redeem  it.  Not  that 
the  greatest  virtue  in  the  world,  which  is  you,  can  be  such  a 
marshal,  as  to  defeat,  or  disperse  all  the  vice  of  this  place ;  but 
as  higher  bodies  remove,  or  contract  themselves  when  better 
come,  so  at  your  return  we  shall  have  one  door  open  to  innocence. 
Yet  madam,  you  are  not  such  an  Ireland,  as  produceth  neither 
ill,  nor  good ;  no  spiders,  nor  nightingales,  which  is  a  rare  degree 
of  perfection  ;  but  you  have  found  and  practised  that  experiment, 
that  even  nature,  out  of  her  detesting  of  emptiness,  if  we  will 
make  that  our  work,  to  remove  bad,  will  fill  us  with  good  things. 
To  abstain  from  it,  was  therefore  but  the  childhood,  and  minority 
of  your  soul,  which  had  been  long  exercised  since,  in  your  manlier 
active  part,  of  doing  good.  Of  which  since  I  have  been  a  witness 
and  subject,  not  to  tell  you  sometimes,  that  by  your  influence 
and  example  I  have  attained  to  such  a  step  of  goodness,  as  to  be 
thankful,  were  both  to  accuse  your  power  and  judgment  of 
impotency  and  infirmity. 

Your  ladyship's  in  all  services, 

August  2,  1607.  .!«MIN- 


On    MR.    GEORGE    HERBERT'S    Book,   intitled   The    Temple    of 
Sacred  Poems,  sent  to  a  Gentlewoman. 

Know  you,  fair,  on  what  you  look  ? 

Divinest  love  lies  in  this  book  : 

Expecting  fire  from  your  eyes, 

To  kindle  this  his  sacrifice. 

When  your  hands  untie  these  strings, 

Think  you've  an  angel  by  the  wings, 

One  that  gladly  will  be  nigh, 

To  wait  upon  each  morning  sigh ; 

To  nutter  in  the  balmy  air, 

Of  your  well-perfumed  prayer. 

These  white  plumes  of  his  he'll  lend  you, 

Which  every  day  to  heaven  will  send  you, 

To  take  acquaintance  of  the  sphere, 

And  all  the  smooth-fac'd  kindred  there. 

And  though  Herbert's  name  do  owe 

These  devotions,  fairest,  know 

That  while  I  lay  them  on  the  shrine 

Of  your  white  hand,  they  are  mine. 

To  the  Hlght  Honourable  the  Lady  ANNE,  Countess  of  PEMBROKE 
and  MONTAGUE  5,  at  Court. 


What  a  trouble  hath  your  goodness  brought  on  you,  by 
admitting  our  poor  services?  Now  they  creep  in  a  vessel  of 
metheglin,  and  still  they  will  be  presenting  or  wishing  to  see  if 
at  length  they  may  find  out  something  not  unworthy  of  those 
hands  at  which  they  aim.  In  the  mean  time  a  priests  blessing, 
though  it  be  none  of  the  courtstile,  yet  doubtless  madam,  can  do 
you  no  hurt.  Wherefore  the  Lord  make  good  the  blessing  of 

5  Montague."]  An  error  for  Montgomery;  Anne  Clifford,  sole  daughter 
and  heir  to  George,  earl  of  Cumberland,  widow  of  Richard,  earl  of  Dorset, 
and  afterwards  wife  of  Philip,  earl  of  Pembroke  and  Montgomery.  "  She 
was  the  oldest,  but  the  most  independent  courtier  in  the  kingdom  :  had 
known  and  admired  queen  Elizabeth :  had  refused  what  she  deemed  an  ini- 
quitous award  of  king  James ;  rebuilt  her  dismantled  castles  in  defiance  of 
Cromwell ;  and  repelled,  with  disdain,  the  interposition  of  a  profligate  mi- 
nister under  Charles  the  Second." — Whitaker's  Craven. 


your  mother  upon  you,  and  cause  all  her  wishes,  diligence, 
prayers  and  tears,  to  bud,  blow  and  bear  fruit  in  your  soul,  to 
his  glory,  your  own  good,  and  the  great  joy  of 


Your  most  faithful  servant 
in  Christ  Jesu, 

Dec.  10,  1631,  Bemerton. 

Madam,  your  poor  colony  of  servants  present  their  humble 


VOT,.  IV. 

....  Tandem  hoc  didicit,  ANIMAS  SAPIENTIORES  FIERI  QUIESCENDO. 


SIR  HENRY  WOTTON  (whose  life  I  now  intend  to  write)  was 
born  in  the  year  of  our  redemption  1568,  in  Bocton-hall  (com- 
monly called  Bocton,  or  Boughton-place,  or  palace,)  in  the  parish 
of  Bocton  Malherb,  in  the  fruitful  country  of  Kent ;  Bocton-hall 
being  an  ancient  and  goodly  structure  *,  beautifying  and  being 
beautified  by  the  parish  church  of  Bocton  Malherb  adjoining  unto 
it,  and  both  seated  within  a  fair  park  of  the  Wottons,  on  the  brow 
of  such  a  hill  as  gives  the  advantage  of  a  large  prospect  and  of 
equal  pleasure  to  all  beholders. 

But  this  house  and  church  are  not  remarkable  for  any  thing  so 
much  as  for  that  the  memorable  family  of  the  Wottons 2  have  so 
long  inhabited  the  one,  and  now  lie  buried  in  the  other,  as  appears 
by  their  many  monuments  in  that  church :  the  Wottons  being  a 
family  that  hath  brought  forth  divers  persons  eminent  for  wisdom 
and  valour ;  whose  heroic  acts  and  noble  employments,  both  in 
England  and  in  foreign  parts,  have  adorned  themselves  and  this 
nation,  which  they  have  served  abroad  faithfully  in  the  discharge 
of  their  great  trust,  and  prudently  in  their  negotiations  with 
several  princes ;  and  also  served  at  home  with  much  honour  and 
justice  in  their  wise  managing  a  great  part  of  the  public  affairs 
thereof,  in  the  various  times  both  of  war  and  peace. 

1  Goodly  structure.']  See  some  engravings,  with  descriptions  of  its  present 
remains,  in  Henry  Shaw's  Elizabethan  Architecture. 

2  Family  of  the  Wottons.']  Catharine  Wotton,  eldest  daughter  and  coheir  of 
Thomas,  second  lord  Wotton,  and  great  niece  of  sir  Henry  Wotton,  married 
Henry,  lord  Stanhope,  son  of  Philip,  first  earl  of  Chesterfield.     She  was 
created  countess  of  Chesterfield  for  life.     Her  grandson,  Charles  Stanhope 
(younger  brother  of  the  third  earl   of  Chesterfield),  inherited  her  estates 
and  took  the  name  of  Wotton.     He  died  without  issue. 

F    2 


But  lest  I  should  be  thought  by  any  that  may  incline  either  to 
deny  or  doubt  this  truth,  not  to  have  observed  moderation  in  the 
commendation  of  this  family;  and  also  for  that  I  believe  the 
merits  and  memory  of  such  persons  ought  to  be  thankfully 
recorded,  I  shall  offer  to  the  consideration  of  every  reader,  out 
of  the  testimony  of  their  pedigree,  and  our  chronicles,  a  part 
(and  but  a  part)  of  that  just  commendation  which  might  be 
from  thence  enlarged;  and  shall  then  leave  the  indifferent 
reader  to  judge  whether  my  error  be  an  excess  or  defect  of 

Sir  Robert  Wotton,  of  Bocton  Malherb,  knt.  was  born  about 
the  year  of  Christ  1460 :  he  lived  in  the  reign  of  king  Edward 
the  fourth,  was  by  him  trusted  to  be  lieutenant  of  Guisnes,  to  be 
knight  porter,  and  comptroller  of  Calais,  where  he  died,  and  lies 
honourably  buried. 

Sir  Edward  Wotton3,  of  Bocton  Malherb,  knight,  (son  and 
heir  of  the  said  sir  Robert)  was  born  in  the  year  of  Christ  1489, 
in  the  reign  of  king  Henry  the  seventh :  he  was  made  treasurer 
of  Calais,  and  of  the  privy  council  to  king  Henry  the  eighth, 
who  offered  him  to  be  lord  chancellor  of  England ;  but  (saith 
Hollinshed,  in  his  Chronicle)  out  of  a  virtuous  modesty  he 
refused  it. 

Thomas  Wotton,  of  Bocton  Malherb,  esquire,  son  and  heir  of 
the  said  sir  Edward,  (and  the  father  of  our  sir  Henry  that  occa- 
sions this  relation,)  was  born  in  the  year  of  Christ  1521  :  he  was 
a  gentleman  excellently  educated,  and  studious  in  all  the  liberal 
arts,  in  the  knowledge  whereof  he  attained  unto  a  great  perfec- 
tion ;  who,  though  he  had  (besides  those  abilities,  a  very  noble 
and  plentiful  estate,  and  the  ancient  interest  of  his  predecessors) 
many  invitations  from  queen  Elizabeth  to  change  his  country 
recreations  and  retirement  for  a  court,  offering  him  a  knighthood, 
(she  was  then  with  him  at  his  Bocton-hall,)  and  that  to  be  but  as 
an  earnest  of  some  more  honourable  and  more  profitable  employ- 
ment under  her ;  yet  he  humbly  refused  both,  being  a  man  of  great 
modesty,  of  a  most  plain  and  single  heart,  of  an  ancient  freedom 
and  integrity  of  mind.  A  commendation  which  sir  Henry 
Wotton  took  occasion  often  to  remember  with  great  gladness, 
and  thankfully  to  boast  himself  the  son  of  such  a  father;  from 

3  Sir  Edward  Wot  ton."]  His  sister,  Margaret,  married  Thomas  Grey,  se- 
cond marquis  of  Dorset,  and  was  grandmother  of  lady  Jane  Grey. 


whom  indeed  he  derived  that  noble  ingenuity  that  was  always 
practised  by  himself,  and  which  he  ever  both  commended  and 
cherished  in  others.  This  Thomas  was  also  remarkable  for  hos- 
pitality, a  great  lover,  and  much  beloved  of  his  country ;  to  which 
may  justly  be  added,  that  he  was  a  cherisher  of  learning,  as 
appears  by  that  excellent  antiquary  Mr.  William  Lambert4,  in  his 
Perambulation  of  Kent. 

This  Thomas 5  had  four  sons,  sir  Edward,  sir  James,  sir  John, 
and  sir  Henry. 

Sir  Edward  was  knighted  by  queen  Elizabeth,  and  made 
comptroller  of  her  majesty "s  household.  He  was  (saith  Cambden) 
a  man  remarkable  for  many  and  great  employments  in  the  state 
during  her  reign,  and  sent  several  times  ambassador  into  foreign 
nations.  After  her  death  he  was  by  king  James  made  comp- 
troller of  his  household,  and  called  to  be  of  his  privy  council,  and 
by  him  advanced  to  be  lord  Wotton,  baron  of  Merly  in  Kent,  and 
made  lord  lieutenant  of  that  county. 

Sir  James  (the  second  son)  may  be  numbered  among  the 
martial  men  of  his  age,  who  was  in  the  38th  of  queen  Elizabeths 
reign  (with  Robert  earl  of  Sussex,  count  Lodowick  of  Nassau, 
don  Christophoro,  son  of  Antonio  king  of  Portugal 6,  and  divers 
other  gentlemen  of  nobleness  and  valour)  knighted  in  the  field 
near  Cadiz7  in  Spain,  after  they  had  gotten  great  honour  and 
riches,  besides  a  notable  retaliation  of  injuries  by  taking  that 

Sir  John,  being  a  gentleman  excellently  accomplished  both  by 
learning  and  travel,  was  knighted  by  queen  Elizabeth,  and  by  her 
looked  upon  with  more  than  ordinary  favour,  and  with  intentions 
of  preferment ;  but  death  in  his  younger  years  put  a  period  to  his 
growing  hopes. 

Of  sir  Henry  my  following  discourse  shall  give  an  account. 

The  descents  of  these  fore-named  Wottons  were  all  in  a  direct 
line,  and  most  of  them  and  their  actions  in  the  memory  of  those 

4  Lambert .]  More  properly  Lambard. 

5  This  Thomas.']  Who  died  llth  January,  1587. 

6  King  of  Portugal.']  Antonio  of  Portugal,  prior  of  Crato,  was  a  natural 
son  of  the  infant  Dom  Luis,  and  grandson  of  the  king  Dom  Emanuel.    After 
the  death  of  the  king  Dom  Sebastian,  in  1578,  Antonio  was  one  of  the  pre- 
tenders to  the  throne  of  Portugal,  and  he  was  supported  in  his  claims  by 
Elizabeth  of  England  and  by  France. 

7  Near  Cadiz.']  In  June  and  July,  1596,  by  the  earl  of  Essex,  who  gave 
offence  to  queen  Elizabeth  by  the  number  of  knights  he  then  made. 


with  whom  we  have  conversed ;  but  if  I  had  looked  so  far  back 
as  to  sir  Nicholas  Wotton,  (who  lived  in  the  reign  of  king 
Richard  the  second,)  or  before  him,  upon  divers  others  of  great 
note  in  their  several  ages,  I  might  by  some  be  thought  tedious ; 
and  yet  others  may  more  justly  think  me  negligent  if  I  omit  to 
mention  Nicholas  Wotton,  the  fourth  son  of  sir  Robert,  whom  I 
first  named. 

This  Nicholas  Wotton  was  doctor  of  law,  and  sometime  dean 
both  of  York  and  Canterbury ;  a  man  whom  God  did  not  only 
bless  with  a  long  life,  but  with  great  abilities  of  mind,  and  an 
inclination  to  employ  them  in  the  service  of  his  country,  as  is 
testified  by  his  several  employments3;  having  been  nine  times 
ambassador  unto  foreign  princes  ;  and  by  his  being  a  privy  coun- 
cillor to  king  Henry  the  eighth,  to  Edward  the  sixth,  to  queen 
Mary,  and  queen  Elizabeth ;  who  also,  after  he  had  been  during 
the  wars  between  England,  Scotland,  and  France,  three  several 
times  (and  not  unsuccessfully)  employed  in  committees  for  settling 
of  peace  betwixt  this  and  those  kingdoms,  died  (saith  learned 

Cambden)  full  of  commendations  for  wisdom  and  piety. He 

was  also  by  the  will  of  king  Henry  the  eighth  made  one  of  his 
executors,  and  chief  secretary  of  state  to  his  son,  that  pious 
prince  Edward  the  sixth. Concerning  which  Nicholas  Wotton8 

*  Camden  in  his  Britannia. 

8  Concerning  which  Nicholas  WottonJ]  When  we  consider  the  numerous 
and  very  important  negotiations  in  which  Nicholas  Wotton  was  engaged,  it 
appears  at  first  sight  somewhat  strange  that  so  few  of  his  letters  or  papers 
should  be  known  to  exist :  that  such  is  the  case  is  owing  in  all  probability  to 
the  caution  of  lord  Burghley,  with  whom  even  from  early  life  Wotton  was 
intimate,  and  whose  secrets  he  possessed.  After  the  death  of  dean  WTotton, 
lord  Burghley  applied  to  the  nephew  (the  Thomas  Wotton  who  was  saved  by 
the  well-timed  dream  mentioned  at  p.  74,  father  of  sir  Henry),  and  received 
from  him,  on  the  1 8th  of  March,  1583,  the  great  bulk  of  the  dean's  papers. 
They  are  not  now  however  to  be  found  amongst  the  Cecil  Papers,  which  be- 
longed to  lord  Exeter,  and  which  are  now  in  the  British  Museum,  neither  are 
they  amongst  those  belonging  to  the  marquess  of  Salisbury,  who  possesses 
only  the  few  letters  of  Wotton  which  are  printed  by  Murdin  and  Haynes. 
There  are  some  few  in  the  State  Paper  Office  which  have  been  recently  brought 
to  light  by  Mr.  Fraser  Tytler,  and  are  printed  in  his  England  during  the  reigns 
of  Edward  VI.  and  Mary.  Two  very  curious  volumes  of  historical  and  genea- 
logical collections  in  the  handwriting  of  the  dean  are  preserved  in  the  British 
Museum,  and  the  late  sir  George  Nayler  possessed  a  similar  volume,  which 
now  (1852)  belongs  to  sir  Thomas  Phillipps,  bart.  These  volumes  sufficiently 
attest  the  writer's  great  knowledge  and  research. 


I  shall  say  but  this  little  more :  that  he  refused  (being  offered  it 
by  queen  Elizabeth)  to  be  b  archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  and  that 
he  died  not  rich,  though  he  lived  in  that  time  of  the  dissolution 
of  abbeys. 

More  might  be  added  :  but  by  this  it  may  appear,  that  sir 
Henry  Wotton  was  a  branch  of  such  a  kindred  as  left  a  stock 
of  reputation  to  their  posterity ;  such  reputation  as  might  kindle 
a  generous  emulation  in  strangers,  and  preserve  a  noble  ambition 
in  those  of  his  name  and  family  to  perform  actions  worthy  of 
their  ancestors. 

And  that  sir  Henry  Wotton  did  so,  might  appear  more  per- 
fectly than  my  pen  can  express  it,  if  of  his  many  surviving  friends 
some  one  of  higher  parts  and  employment  had  been  pleased  to 
have  commended  his  to  posterity.  But  since  some  years  are  now 
past,  and  they  have  all  (I  know  not  why)  forborne  to  do  it,  my 
gratitude  to  the  memory  of  my  dead  friend,  and  the  renewed 
request  of  some c  that  still  live  solicitous  to  see  this  duty  per- 
formed ;  these  have  had  a  power  to  persuade  me  to  undertake  it ; 
which  truly  I.  have  not  done  but  with  some  distrust  of  mine  own 
abilities,  and  yet  so  far  from  despair,  that  I  am  modestly  confi- 
dent my  humble  language  shall  be  accepted,  because  I  shall 
present  all  readers  with  a  commixture  of  truth  and  sir  Henry 
Wotton^s  merits. 

This  being  premised,  I  proceed  to  tell  the  reader,  that  the 
father  of  sir  Henry  Wotton  was  twice  married,  first  to  Elizabeth, 
the  daughter  of  sir  John  Eudstone 9,  knight ;  after  whose  death, 
though  his  inclination  was  averse  to  all  contentions,  yet  neces- 
sitated he  was  to  several  suits  in  law,  in  the  prosecution  whereof 
(which  took  up  much  of  his  time,  and  were  the  occasion  of  many 
discontents)  he  was  by  divers  of  his  friends  earnestly  persuaded 
to  a  remarriage ;  to  whom  he  as  often  answered,  That  if  ever  he 

b  Hollinshead. 

c  Sir  Edward  Bish,  clarencieux  king  of  arms,  Mr.  Charles  Cotton,  and 
Mr.  Nick  Oudert,  sometime  sir  Henry  Wotton's  servant. 

9  Sir  John  Rudstone.']  Who  had  been  lord  mayor  of  London  in  1528,  and 
died  in  1531.  There  was  a  triple  alliance  between  his  family  and  that  of  the 
Wottons,  as  two  of  his  children  married  two  of  sir  Edward  Wotton's,  sir 
Edward  himself  having  married  sir  John's  widow.  He  seems  to  have  been 
possessed  of  great  wealth.  The  Harleian  MS.  1231  contains  nothing  else 
than  his  will,  inventories  of  his  goods,  and  deeds  relative  to  his  widow  and 
her  marriage. 


did  put  on  a  resolution  to  marry,  he  was  seriously  resolved  to  avoid 
three  sorts  of  persons  : 

C  that  had  children, 
namely,  those  -j  that  had  law-suits. 

v  that  were  of  his  kindred. 

And  yet,  following  his  own  law-suit,  he  met  in  Westminster- 
hall  with  Mrs.  Elionora  Morton,  widow  to  Robert  Morton l  of 
Kent,  esquire,  who  was  also  engaged  in  several  suits  in  law ;  and 
he,  observing  her  comportment  at  the  time  of  hearing  one  of  her 
causes  before  the  judges,  could  not  but  at  the  same  time  both 
compassionate  her  condition  and  affect  her  person  (for  the  tears 
of  lovers,  or  beauty  drest  in  sadness,  are  observed  to  have  in 
them  a  charming  eloquence,  and  to  become  very  often  too  strong 
to  be  resisted,)  which  I  mention,  because  it  proved  so  with  this 
Thomas  Wotton ;  for  although  there  were  in  her  a  concurrence 
of  all  those  accidents  against  which  he  had  so  seriously  resolved, 
yet  his  affection  to  her  grew  then  so  strong,  that  he  resolved  to 
solicit  her  for  a  wife ;  and  did,  and  obtained  her. 

By  her  (who  was  the  daughter  of  sir  William  Finch a,  of  East- 
well,  in  Kent,)  he  had  only  Henry  his  youngest  son. His 

mother  undertook  to  be  tutoress  unto  him  during  much  of  his 
childhood ;  for  whose  care  and  pains  he  paid  her  each  day  with 
such  visible  signs  of  future  perfection  in  learning  as  turned  her 
employment  into  a  pleasing  trouble,  which  she  was  content  to 
continue  till  his  father  took  him  into  his  own  particular  care,  and 
disposed  of  him  to  a  tutor  in  his  own  house  at  Bocton. 

And  when  time  and  diligent  instruction  had  made  him  fit  for  a 
removal  to  an  higher  form  (which  was  very  early)  he  was  sent  to 
Winchester  school,  a  place  of  strict  discipline  and  order ;  that 
so  he  might  in  his  youth  be  moulded  into  a  method  of  living 
by  rule,  which  his  wise  father  knew  to  be  the  most  necessary 
way  to  make  the  future  part  of  his  life  both  happy  to  himself, 
and  useful  for  the  discharge  of  all  business,  whether  public  or 

And  that  he  might  be  confirmed  in  this  regularity,  he  was  at 
a  fit  age  removed  from  that  school  to  be  commoner  of  New  college 

1  Robert  Morton.']  By  whom  she  was  mother  of  sir  Albertus  Morton. 
:  Sir  William  Finch.]  Ancestor  of  the  earls  of  Winchelsea  and  Nottingham, 
and  Aylesford. 

3  To  be  commoner.]  He  was  admitted  in  1584. 


in  Oxford,  both  being  founded  by  William  Wickham,  bishop  of 

There  he  continued  till  about  the  eighteenth  year  of  his  age, 
and  was  then  transplanted  into  Queen's  college,  where  within  that 
year  he  was  by  the  chief  of  that  college  persuasively  enjoined  to 
write  a  play  for  their  private  use,  (it  was  the  tragedy  of  Tan- 
credo,)  which  was  so  interwoven  with  sentences,  and  for  the 
method  and  exact  personating  those  humours,  passions  and  dis- 
positions, which  he  proposed  to  represent,  so  performed,  that  the 
gravest  of  that  society  declared  he  had  in  a  slight  employment 
given  an  early  and  a  solid  testimony  of  his  future  abilities.  And 
though  there  may  be  some  sour  dispositions,  which  may  think 
this  not  worth  a  memorial,  yet  that  wise  knight  Baptista  Guarini 4 
(whom  learned  Italy  accounts  one  of  her  ornaments)  thought 
it  neither  an  uncomely  nor  an  unprofitable  employment  for 
his  age. 

But  I  pass  to  what  will  be  thought  more  serious. 

About  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age  he  proceeded  master  of 
arts,  and  at  that  time  read  in  Latin  three  lectures  de  oculo ; 
wherein  he  having  described  the  form,  the  motion,  the  curious 
composure  of  the  eye ;  and  demonstrated  how  of  those  very  many, 
every  humour  and  nerve  performs  his  distinct  office,  so  as  the 
God  of  order  hath  appointed,  without  mixture  or  confusion ;  and 
all  this  to  the  advantage  of  man,  to  whom  the  eye  is  given,  not 
only  as  the  body's  guide,  but  whereas  all  other  of  his  senses 
require  time  to  inform  the  soul,  this  in  an  instant  apprehends 
and  warns  him  of  danger,  teaching  him  in  the  very  eyes  of  others 
to  discover  wit,  folly,  love,  and  hatred.  After  he  had  made 
these  observations  he  fell  to  dispute  this  optique  question, 
"  Whether  we  see  by  the  emission  of  the  beams  from  within,  or 
reception  of  the  species  from  without  f  and  after  that,  and  many 
other  like  learned  disquisitions,  he  in  the  conclusion  of  his  lectures 
took  a  fair  occasion  to  beautify  his  discourse  with  a  commendation 
of  the  blessing  and  benefit  of  seeing ;  by  which  we  do  not  only 
discover  nature's  secrets ;  but  with  a  continued  content  (for  the 
eye  is  never  weary  of  seeing)  behold  the  great  light  of  the  world, 
and  by  it  discover  the  fabric  of  the  heavens,  and  both  the  order 
and  motion  of  the  celestial  orbs ;  nay,  that  if  the  eye  look  but 
downward,  it  may  rejoice  to  behold  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  our 

4  Guarini.']  Giovanni  Battista  Guarini,  the  author  of  the  Pastor  Fido. 


common  mother,  embroidered  and  adorned  with  numberless  and 
various  flowers,  which  man  sees  daily  grow  up  to  perfection,  and 
then  silently  moralize  his  own  condition,  who  in  a  short  time 
(like  those  very  flowers)  decays  and  withers,  and  quickly  returns 
again  to  that  earth  from  which  both  had  their  first  being. 

These  were  so  exactly  debated,  and  so  rhetorically  heightened 
as,  among  other  admirers,  caused  that  learned  Italian,  Albericus 
Gentilis 5  (then  professor  of  the  civil  law  in  Oxford)  to  call  him 
Henrice,  mi  ocelle ;  which  dear  expression  of  his  was  also  used  by 
divers  of  sir  Henry^s  dearest  friends,  and  by  many  other  persons 
of  note,  during  his  stay  in  the  university. 

But  his  stay  there  was  not  long ;  at  least,  not  so  long  as  his 
friends  once  intended ;  for  the  year  after  sir  Henry  proceeded 
master  of  arts,  his  father  (whom  sir  Henry  did  never  mention 
without  this  or  some  like  reverential  expression,  as  That  good 
man  my  father,  or  my  father  the  best  of  men :)  about  that  time  this 
good  man  changed  this  for  a  better  life,  leaving  to  sir  Henry,  as 
to  his  other  younger  sons,  a  rent-charge  of  an  hundred  marks  a 
year,  to  be  paid  for  ever  out  of  some  one  of  his  manors  of  a  much 
greater  value. 

And  here,  though  this  good  man  be  dead,  yet  I  wish  a  circum- 
stance or  two  that  concern  him  may  not  be  buried  without  a  rela- 
tion ;  which  I  shall  undertake  to  do,  for  that  I  suppose  they  may 
so  much  concern  the  reader  to  know,  that  I  may  promise  myself 
a  pardon  for  a  short  digression. 

In  the  year  of  our  redemption  1553  Nicholas  Wotton,  dean  of 
Canterbury  (whom  I  formerly  mentioned)  being  then  ambassador 
in  France,  dreamed  that  his  nephew,  this  Thomas  Wotton,  was 
inclined  to  be  a  party  in  such  a  project  as,  if  he  were  not  suddenly 
prevented,  would  turn  both  to  the  loss  of  his  life  and  ruin  of  his 

Doubtless  the  good  dean  did  well  know  that  common  dreams 
are  but  a  senseless  paraphrase  on  our  waking  thoughts,  or  of  the 
business  of  the  day  past,  or  are  the  result  of  our  over-engaged 
affections  when  we  betake  ourselves  to  rest;  and  knew  that  tin- 
observation  of  them  may  turn  to  silly  superstitions,  as  they  too 
often  do :  but  though  he  might  know  all  this,  and  might  also 
believe  that  prophecies  are  ceased,  yet  doubtless  he  could  not  but 

'  Gentilis.]  Of  whom  an  account  is  given  by  Ant.  a  Wood. 


consider,  that  all  dreams  are  not  to  be  neglected  or  cast  away 
without  all  consideration,  and  did  therefore  rather  lay  this  dream 
aside  than  intend  totally  to  lose  it ;  and  dreaming  the  same  again 
the  night  following,  when  it  became  a  double  dream,  like  that  of 
Pharaoh,  (of  which  double  dreams  the  learned  have  made  many 
observations)  and  considering  that  it  had  no  dependence  on  his 
waking  thoughts,  much  less  on  the  desires  of  his  heart,  then  he 
did  more  seriously  consider  it,  and  remembered  that  almighty 
God  was  pleased  in  a  dream  to  reveal  and  to  assure  Monica d, 
the  mother  of  St.  Austin,  that  he,  her  son,  for  whom  she  wept  so 
bitterly  and  prayed  so  much,  should  at  last  become  a  Christian. 
This  I  believe  the  good  dean  considered ;  and  considering  also 
that  almighty  God  (though  the  causes  of  dreams  be  often  un- 
known) hath  even  in  these  latter  times  also,  by  a  certain  illumi- 
nation of  the  soul  in  sleep,  discovered  many  things  that  human 
wisdom  could  not  foresee :  upon  these  considerations  he  resolved 
to  use  so  prudent  a  remedy,  by  way  of  prevention,  as  might  in- 
troduce no  great  inconvenience  either  to  himself  or  to  his  nephew. 
And  to  that  end  he  wrote  to  the  queen  (it  was  queen  Mary)  and 
besought  her,  "  That  she  would  cause  his  nephew  Thomas  Wot- 
ton,  to  be  sent  for  out  of  Kent ;  and  that  the  lords  of  her  council 
might  interrogate  him  in  some  such  feigned  questions  as  might 
give  a  colour  for  his  commitment  into  a  favourable  prison ;  de- 
claring that  he  would  acquaint  her  majesty  with  the  true  reason 
of  his  request  when  he  should  next  become  so  happy  as  to  see 
and  speak  to  her  majesty." 

It  was  done  as  the  dean  desired ;  and  in  prison  I  must  leave 
Mr.  Wotton  till  I  have  told  the  reader  what  followed. 

At  this  time  a  marriage  was  concluded  betwixt  our  queen 
Mary  and  Philip  king  of  Spain ;  and  though  this  was  concluded 
with  the  advice,  if  not  by  the  persuasion  of  her  privy  council,  as 
having  many  probabilities  of  advantage  to  this  nation,  yet  divers 
persons  of  a  contrary  persuasion  did  not  only  declare  against  it, 
but  also  raised  forces  to  oppose  it ;  believing  (as  they  said)  it 
would  be  a  means  to  bring  England  to  be  under  a  subjection  to 
Spain,  and  make  those  of  this  nation  slaves  to  strangers. 

And  of  this  number  sir  Thomas  Wyat,  of  Boxley  Abbey,  in 
Kent,  (betwixt  whose  family  and  the  family  of  the  Wottons  there 
had  been  an  ancient  and  entire  friendship)  was  the  principal 

d  St.  Austin's  Confessions,  book  iii.  ch.  ii. 


actor ;  who  having  persuaded  many  of  the  nobility  and  gentry 
(especially  in  Kent)  to  side  with  him,  and  he  being  defeated  and 
taken  prisoner,  was  legally  arraigned  and  condemned,  and  lost 
his  life 6 :  so  did  the  duke  of  Suffolk,  and  divers  others,  especially 
many  of  the  gentry  of  Kent,  who  were  there  in  several  places 
executed  as  Wyat^s  assistants. 

And  of  this  number,  in  all  probability,  had  Mr.  Wotton  been 
if  he  had  not  been  confined ;  for  though  he  could  not  be  ignorant 
that  another  man's  treason  makes  it  mine  by  concealing  it,  yet 
he  durst  confess  to  his  uncle,  when  he  returned  into  England, 
and  then  came  to  visit  him  in  prison,  that  he  had  more  than  an 
intimation  of  Wyat's  intentions,  and  thought  he  had  not  con- 
tinued actually  innocent  if  his  uncle  had  not  so  happily  dreamed 
him  into  a  prison  ;  out  of  which  place  when  he  was  delivered  by 
the  same  hand  that  caused  his  commitment,  they  both  considered 
the  dream  more  seriously,  and  then  both  joined  in  praising  God 
for  it ;  that  God  who  ties  himself  to  no  rules,  either  in  preventing 
of  evil,  or  in  shewing  of  mercy  to  those  whom  of  good  pleasure  he 
hath  chosen  to  love. 

And  this  dream  was  the  more  considerable,  because  that  God, 
who  in  the  days  of  old  did  use  to  speak  to  his  people  in  visions, 
did  seem  to  speak  to  many  of  this  family  in  dreams ;  of  which  I 
will  also  give  the  reader  one  short  particular  of  this  Thomas 
Wotton,  whose  dreams  did  usually  prove  true,  both  in  foretelling 
things  to  come  and  discovering  things  past ;  and  the  particular  is 
this : — This  Thomas,  a  little  before  his  death,  dreamed  that  the 
university  treasury  was  robbed  by  townsmen  and  poor  scholars ; 
and  that  the  number  was  five :  and  being  that  day  to  write  to  his 
son  Henry  at  Oxford,  he  thought  it  worth  so  much  pains  as  by  a 
postscript  in  his  letter  to  make  a  slight  inquiry  of  it.  The  letter 
(which  was  writ  out  of  Kent,  and  dated  three  days  before,)  canic 
to  his  son's  hands  the  very  morning  after  the  night  in  which  the 
robbery  was  committed;  and  when  the  city  and  university  \v.-n- 
both  in  a  perplexed  inquest  of  the  thieves,  then  did  sir  Henry 
\Vntton  shew  his  fathers  letter,  and  by  it  such  light  was  gi\«'ii 
of  this  work  of  darkness,  that  the  five  guilty  persons  were  pre- 
sently discovered  and  apprehended,  without  putting  the  university 
to  so  much  trouble  as  the  casting  of  a  figun  . 

6  Lost  his  life.]  He  was  beheaded,  April  llth,  1554. 

7  Casting  a  figure  J]  In  our  days  it  sounds  strangely  that  the  university  of 
Oxford  should  have  resorted  to  astrology. 


And  it  may  yet  be  more  considerable,  that  this  Nicholas  and 
Thomas  Wotton  should  both  (being  men  of  holy  lives,  of  even 
tempers,  and  much  given  to  fasting  and  prayer,)  foresee  and  fore- 
tell the  very  days  of  their  own  death.  Nicholas  did  so,  being 
then  seventy  years  of  age,  and  in  perfect  health.  Thomas  did  the 
like  in  the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  who  being  then  in  London 
(where  he  died)  and  foreseeing  his  death  there,  gave  direction  in 
what  manner  his  body  should  be  carried  to  Bocton ;  and  though 
he  thought  his  uncle  Nicholas  worthy  of  that  noble  monument 8 
which  he  built  for  him  in  the  cathedral  church  of  Canterbury,  yet 
this  humble  man  gave  direction  concerning  himself  to  be  buried 
privately,  and  especially  without  any  pomp  at  his  funeral. — This 
is  some  account  of  this  family,  which  seemed  to  be  beloved  of 

But  it  may  now  seem  more  than  time  that  I  return  to  sir  Henry 
Wotton  at  Oxford,  where,  after  his  optic  lecture,  he  was  taken 
into  such  a  bosom  friendship  with  the  learned  Albericus  Gentilis 
(whom  I  formerly  named)  that  if  it  had  been  possible  Gentilis 
would  have  breathed  all  his  excellent  knowledge,  both  of  the 
mathematics  and  law,  into  the  breast  of  his  dear  Harry,  (for  so 
Gentilis  used  to  call  him)  and  though  he  was  not  able  to  do  that, 
yet  there  was  in  sir  Henry  such  a  propensity  and  connaturalness 
to  the  Italian  language,  and  those  studies  whereof  Gentilis  was 
a  great  master,  that  this  friendship  between  them  did  daily 
increase,  and  prove  daily  advantageous  to  sir  Henry,  for  the 
improvement  of  him  in  several  sciences  during  his  stay  in  the 

From  which  place,  before  I  shall  invite  the  reader  to  follow  him 
into  a  foreign  nation,  though  I  must  omit  to  mention  divers  per- 
sons that  were  then  in  Oxford,  of  memorable  note  for  learning, 
and  friends  to  sir  Henry  Wotton,  yet  I  must  not  oinit  the  men- 
tion of  a  love  that  was  there  begun  between  him  and  Dr.  Donne, 
(sometime  dean  of  St.  Paul's,)  a  man  of  whose  abilities  I  shall 
forbear  to  say  any  thing,  because  he  who  is  of  this  nation,  and 
pretends  to  learning  or  ingenuity,  and  is  ignorant  of  Dr.  Donne, 
deserves  not  to  know  him.  The  friendship  of  these  two  I  must 

8  That  noble  monument.']  Of  which  an  engraving  by  Cole  is  in  Dart's 
History  of  Canterbury  Cathedral:  a  smaller  engraving  is  in  Hasted's  History 
of  Kent. 


not  omit  to  mention,  being  such  a  friendship  as  was  generously 
elemented :  and  as  it  was  begun  in  their  youth,  and  in  an  univer- 
sity, and  there  maintained  by  correspondent  inclinations  and 
studies,  so  it  lasted  till  age  and  death  forced  a  separation. 

In  Oxford  he  staid  till  about  two  years  after  his  father's  death, 
at  which  time  he  was  about  the  two  and  twentieth  year  of  his 
age ;  and  having  to  his  great  wit  added  the  ballast  of  learning, 
and  knowledge  of  the  arts,  he  then  laid  aside  his  books,  and  be- 
took himself  to  the  useful  library  of  travel,  and  a  more  general 
conversation  with  mankind ;  employing  the  remaining  part  of  his 
youth,  his  industry  and  fortune,  to  adorn  his  mind,  and  to  pur- 
chase the  rich  treasure  of  foreign  knowledge ;  of  which,  both  for 
the  secrets  of  nature,  the  dispositions  of  many  nations,  their 
several  laws  and  languages,  he  was  the  possessor  in  a  very  large 
measure,  as  I  shall  faithfully  make  to  appear,  before  I  take  my 
pen  from  the  following  narration  of  his  life. 

In  his  travels,  which  was  almost  nine  years  before  his  return 
into  England,  he  staid  but  one  year  in  France,  and  most  of  that 
in  Geneva,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  Theodore  Beza 
(then  very  aged),  and  with  Isaac  Casaubon,  in  whose  house  (if  I 
be  rightly  informed)  sir  Henry  Wotton  was  lodged,  and  there 
contracted  a  most  worthy  friendship9  with  that  man  of  rare 
learning  and  ingenuity. 

Three  of  the  remaining  eight  years  were  spent  in  Germany, 
the  other  five  in  Italy  (the  stage  on  which  God  appointed  he 
should  act  a  great  part  of  his  life)  where  both  in  Rome,  Venice, 
and  Florence,  he  became  acquainted  with  the  most  eminent  men 
for  learning,  and  all  manner  of  arts;  as  picture,  sculpture, 
chemistry,  architecture,  and  other  manual  arts,  even  arts  of 
inferior  nature  ;  of  all  which  he  was  a  most  dear  lover,  and  a 
most  excellent  judge. 

He  returned  out  of  Italy  into  England  about  the  thirtieth 
year  of  his  age,  being  then  noted  by  many,  both  for  his  person 
and  comportment ;  for  indeed  he  was  of  choice  shape,  tall 
of  stature,  and  of  a  most  persuasive  behaviour;  which  u;i> 
so  mixed  with  sweet  discourse,  and  civilities,  as  gained  him 

"  Worthy  friendship.']  Wotton's  improvidence  in  pecuniary  matters  ap- 
pears to  have  brought  Casaubon,  who  had  become  his  bondsman,  into  very 
considerable  anxiety  and  difficulty.  The  matter  however,  in  the  end,  was 
settled  satisfactorily.  This  was  in  the  years  1594  and  1595.  See  Isaaci 
Casauboni  Epiatobr,  fol.  17<M>.  p.  11.  12.  1:1.  17.  19. 


much  love  from  all  persons  with  whom  he  entered  into  an 

And  whereas  he  was  noted  in  his  youth  to  have  a  sharp  wit, 
and  apt  to  jest ;  that  by  time,  travel,  and  conversation,  was  so 
polished,  and  made  so  useful,  that  his  company  seemed  to  be  one 
of  the  delights  of  mankind ;  insomuch  as  Robert  earl  of  Essex 
(then  one  of  the  darlings  of  fortune,  and  in  greatest  favour  with 
queen  Elizabeth)  invited  him  first  into  a  friendship,  and  after  a 
knowledge  of  his  great  abilities,  to  be  one  of  his  secretaries ; 
(the  other  being  Mr.  Henry  Cuife,  sometime  of  Merton  college 
in  Oxford ;  and  there  also  the  acquaintance  of  sir  Henry  Wotton 
in  his  youth ;  Mr.  Cuffe  being  then  a  man  of  no  common  note 
in  the  university  for  his  learning;  nor  after  his  removal  from 
that  place,  for  the  great  abilities  of  his  mind  ;  nor  indeed,  for  the 
fatalness  of  his  end.) 

Sir  Henry  Wotton  being  now  taken  into  a  serviceable  friend- 
ship with  the  earl  of  Essex,  did  personally  attend  his  counsels 
and  employments  in  two  voyages  at  sea  against  the  Spaniards, 
and  also  in  that  (which  was  the  earl's  last)  into  Ireland ;  that 
voyage  wherein  he  then  did  so  much  provoke  the  queen  to  anger, 
and  worse  at  his  return  into  England ;  upon  whose  immoveable 
favour  the  earl  had  built  such  sandy  hopes,  as  encouraged  him 
to  those  undertakings,  which  with  the  help  of  a  contrary  faction 
suddenly  caused  his  commitment  to  the  Tower. 

Sir  Henry  Wotton  observing  this,  though  he  was  not  of  that 
faction  (for  the  earl's  followers  were  also  divided  into  their  several 
interests)  which  encouraged  the  earl  to  those  undertakings  which 
proved  so  fatal  to  him,  and  divers  of  his  confederation  ;  yet, 
knowing  treason  to  be  so  comprehensive,  as  to  take  in  even  cir- 
cumstances, and  out  of  them  to  make  such  positive  conclusions  as 
subtle  statesmen  shall  project,  either  for  their  revenge  or  safety ; 
considering  this,  he  thought  prevention  by  absence  out  of  England, 
a  better  security  than  to  stay  in  it,  and  there  plead  his  innocence 
in  a  prison.  Therefore  did  he,  so  soon  as  the  earl  was  appre- 
hended, very  quickly,  and  as  privately  glide  through  Kent  to 
Dover,  without  so  much  as  looking  toward  his  native  and  beloved 
Bocton ;  and  was  by  the  help  of  favourable  winds  and  liberal 
payment  of  the  mariners,  within  sixteen  hours  after  his  departure 
from  London,  set  upon  the  French  shore;  where  he  heard 
shortly  after,  that  the  earl  was  arraigned,  condemned,  and  be- 


headed ! ;  and  that  his  friend  Mr.  Cuffe  was  hanged,  and  divers 
other  persons  of  eminent  quality  executed. 

The  times  did  not  look  so  favourably  upon  sir  Henry  Wotton, 
as  to  invite  his  return  into  England ;  having  therefore  procured 
of  sir  Edward  Wotton,  his  elder  brother,  an  assurance  that  his 
annuity  should  be  paid  him  in  Italy,  thither  he  went,  happily 
renewing  his  intermitted  friendship  and  interest,  and  indeed,  his 
great  content  in  a  new  conversation  with  his  old  acquaintance  in 
that  nation ;  and  more  particularly  in  Florence  (which  city  is 
not  more  eminent  for  the  great  duke^s  court,  than  for  the  great 
recourse  of  men  of  choicest  note  for  learning  and  arts,)  in  which 
number  he  there  met  with  his  old  friend  seignior  Vietta ',  a  gen- 
tleman of  Venice,  and  then  taken  to  be  secretary  to  the  great 
duke  of  Tuscany 3. 

After  some  stay  in  Florence,  he  went  the  fourth  time  to  visit 
Rome,  where  in  the  English  college  he  had  very  many  friends 
(their  humanity  made  them  really  so,  though  they  knew  him  to  be 
a  dissenter  from  many  of  their  principles  of  religion,)  and  having 
enjoyed  their  company,  and  satisfied  himself  concerning  some 
curiosities  that  did  partly  occasion  his  journey  thither,  he  returned 
back  to  Florence,  where  a  most  notable  accident  befell  him ;  an 
accident  that  did  not  only  find  new  employment  for  his  choice 
abilities,  but  introduce  him  to  a  knowledge  and  an  interest  with 
our  king  James,  then  king  of  Scotland ;  which  I  shall  proceed 
to  relate. 

But  first,  I  am  to  tell  the  reader,  that  though  queen  Elizabeth 
(or  she  and  her  council)  were  never  willing  to  declare  her  suc- 
cessor; yet  James  then  king  of  the  Scots,  was  confidently 
believed  by  most  to  be  the  man  upon  whom  the  sweet  trouble  of 
kingly  government  would  be  imposed ;  and  the  queen  declining 
very  fast,  both  by  age  and  visible  infirmities,  those  that  were  of 
the  Romish  persuasion  in  point  of  religion  (even  Rome  itself,  and 
those  of  this  nation)  knowing  that  the  death  of  the  queen,  and 
the  establishing  of  her  successor,  were  taken  to  be  critical 
days  for  destroying  or  establishing  the  protestant  religion  in  this 

1  Beheaded.]  In  1600. 

2  Seignior  Vietta.]  Who  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  great  mathema- 
tician Francois  Viete,  then  living,  a  Frenchman,  born  at  Fontenay,  in  Poitou, 
and  master  of  requests  to  Margaret  of  Valois. 

3  Great  duke  of  Tuscany.]  Ferdinand  de*  Medici. 


nation,  did  therefore  improve  all  opportunities  for  preventing  a 
protestant  prince  to  succeed  her.  And  as  the  pope's  excom- 
munication 4  of  queen  Elizabeth,  had  both  by  the  judgment  and 
practice  of  the  jesuited  papist,  exposed  her  to  be  warrantably 
destroyed ;  so  (if  we  may  believe  an  angry  adversary 5,  a  "  secular 
priest  against  a  Jesuit ")  you  may  believe,  that  about  that  time 
there  were  many  endeavours,  first  to  excommunicate,  and  then  to 
shorten  the  life  of  king  James. 

Immediately  after  sir  Henry  Wotton's  return  from  Rome  to 
Florence  (which  was  about  a  year  before  the  death  of  queen 
Elizabeth)  Ferdinand  the  great  duke  of  Florence  had  intercepted 
certain  letters  that  discovered  a  design  to  take  away  the  life  of 
James  the  then  king  of  Scots.  The  duke  abhorring  the  fact, 
and  resolving  to  endeavour  a  prevention  of  it,  advised  with  his 
secretary  Vietta,  by  what  means  a  caution  might  be  best  given 
to  that  king ;  and  after  consideration,  it  was  resolved  to  be  done 
by  sir  Henry  Wotton,  whom  Vietta  first  commended  to  the  duke, 
and  the  duke  had  noted  and  approved  of  above  all  the  English 
that  frequented  his  court. 

Sir  Henry  was  gladly  called  by  his  friend  Vietta  to  the  duke, 
who  after  much  profession  of  trust  and  friendship,  acquainted  him 
with  the  secret ;  and  being  well  instructed,  dispatched  him  into 
Scotland  with  letters  to  the  king,  and  with  those  letters,  such 
Italian  antidotes  against  poison,  as  the  Scots  till  then  had  been 
strangers  to. 

Having  parted  from  the  duke,  he  took  up  the  name  and  lan- 
guage of  an  Italian ;  and  thinking  it  best  to  avoid  the  line  of 
English  intelligence  and  danger;  he  posted  into  Norway,  and 
through  that  country  towards  Scotland,  where  he  found  the  king 
at  Stirling ;  being  there,  he  used  means  by  Bernard  Lindsey 6, 

4  Pope's  excommunication^]  Pius  V.'s  in  1576.     "It  deposed  the  queen's 
majesty  from  her  royal  seat,  and  tore  the  crown  from  her  head.    It  discharged 
all  her  natural  subjects  from  all  due  obedience.     It  armed  one  side  of  them 
against  another.     It  emboldened  them  to  burn,  to  spoil,  to  rob,  to  kill,  to 
cut  one  another's  throats ;  like  Pandora's  box  sent  to  Epimetheus,  full  of 
hurtful  and  unwholesome  evils."    Bp.  Jewel. 

5  An  angry  adversary .]  William  Watson,  who  was  hanged  in   1603,  with 
William  Clark  and  George  Brooke,  the  brother  of  lord  Cobham.     The  titles  of 
his  books  are,  1.  Dialogue  betwixt  a  Secular  Priest  and  a  Lay  Gentleman,  4to., 
Rhemes,  1601.     2.  Decachordon  of  Ten   Quodlibeticall  Questions  concerning 
Religion  and  State,  4to.,  1602. 

6  Bernard  Lindsey.']  So  read  all  the  editions,  as  if  a  cadet  of  the  houses  of 

VOL.   IV.  G 


one  of  the  king's  bedchamber,  to  procure  him  a  speedy  and 
private  conference  with  his  majesty,  assuring  him,  "That  the 
business  which  he  was  to  negotiate,  was  of  such  consequence  as 
had  caused  the  great  duke  of  Tuscany  to  enjoin  him  suddenly  to 
leave  his  native  country  of  Italy,  to  impart  it  to  his  king." 

This  being  by  Bernard  Lindsey  made  known  to  the  king,  the 
king  after  a  little  wonder  (mixed  with  jealousy)  to  hear  of  an 
Italian  ambassador,  or  messenger,  required  his  name  (which  was 
said  to  be  Octavio  Baldi)  and  appointed  him  to  be  heard  privately 
at  a  fixed  hour  that  evening. 

When  Octavio  Baldi  came  to  the  presence-chamber  door,  he 
was  requested  to  lay  aside  his  long  rapier  (which  Italian-like  he 
then  wore)  and  being  entered  the  chamber,  he  found  there  with 
the  king  three  or  four  Scotch  lords  standing  distant  in  several 
corners  of  the  chamber ;  at  the  sight  of  whom  he  made  a  stand  ; 
which  the  king  observing,  "bade  him  be  bold,  and  deliver  his 
message ;  for  he  would  undertake  for  the  secrecy  of  all  that  were 
present."  Then  did  Octavio  Baldi  deliver  his  letters  and  his 
message  to  the  king  in  Italian;  which,  when  the  king  had 
graciously  received,  after  a  little  pause,  Octavio  Baldi  steps  to 
the  table  and  whispers  to  the  king  in  his  own  language,  that  he 
was  an  Englishman,  beseeching  him  for  a  more  private  conference 
with  his  majesty,  and  that  he  might  be  concealed  during  his 
stay  in  that  nation ;  which  was  promised,  and  really  performed 
by  the  king  during  all  his  abode  there,  (which  was  about  three 
months)  all  which  time  was  spent  with  much  pleasantness  to  the 
king,  and  with  as  much  to  Octavio  Baldi  himself,  as  that  country 
could  afford ;  from  which  he  departed  as  true  an  Italian 7,  as  he 
came  thither. 

To  the  duke  of  Florence  he  returned  with  a  fair  and  grateful 
account  of  his  employment,  and  within  some  few  months  after 
his  return,  there  came  certain  news  to  Florence,  that  queen 
Elizabeth  was  dead ;  and  James  king  of  the  Scots  proclaimed 
king  of  England.  The  duke  knowing  travel  and  business  to  be 
the  best  schools  of  wisdom,  and  that  sir  Henry  Wotton  had  been 
tutored  in  both,  advised  him  to  return  presently  to  England,  and 

Crawford  or  Balcarres  were  meant :  the  real  person  was  Bernard  Lindley, 
mentioned  by  the  scandalous  chronicler  Weldon  as  one  of  the  Scots  who 
obtained  large  grants  from  James,  after  his  accession  to  the  English  throne. 
7  As  true  an  Italian.]  Meaning  that  his  disguise  was  not  discovered. 


there  joy  the  king  with  his  new  and  better  title,  and  wait  there 
upon  fortune  for  a  better  employment. 

When  king  James  came  into  England,  he  found,  amongst 
other  of  the  late  queen's  officers,  sir  Edward,  who  was  after  lord 
Wotton,  comptroller  of  the  house,  of  whom  he  demanded,  "  If 
he  knew  one  Henry  Wotton,  that  had  spent  much  time  in  foreign 
travel  2"  the  lord  replied,  he  knew  him  well,  and  that  he  was  his 
brother ;  then  the  king  asking  where  he  then  was,  was  answered, 
at  Venice,  or  Florence ;  but  by  late  letters  from  thence,  he 
understood  he  would  suddenly  be  at  Paris.  "  Send  for  him," 
said  the  king,  "  and  when  he  shall  come  into  England,  bid  him 
repair  privately  to  me."  The  lord  Wotton  after  a  little  wonder, 
asked  the  king,  "  if  he  knew  him  ?"  to  which  the  king  answered, 
"  You  must  rest  unsatisfied  of  that,  till  you  bring  the  gentleman 
to  me." 

Not  many  months  after  this  discourse,  the  lord  Wotton  brought 
his  brother  to  attend  the  king,  who  took  him  in  his  arms,  and 
bade  him  welcome  by  the  name  of  Octavio  Baldi,  saying,  "  he 
was  the  most  honest,  and  therefore  the  best  dissembler  that  ever 
he  met  with:"  and  said,  "Seeing  I  know  you  neither  want 
learning,  travel,  nor  experience,  and  that  I  have  had  so  real  a 
testimony  of  your  faithfulness  and  abilities  to  manage  an  ambas- 
sage,  I  have  sent  for  you  to  declare  my  purpose ;  which  is,  to 
make  use  of  you  in  that  kind  hereafter :"  and  indeed  the  king 
did  so  most  of  those  two  and  twenty  years  of  his  reign ;  but 
before  he  dismist  Octavio  Baldi  from  his  present  attendance  upon 
him,  he  restored  him  to  his  old  name  of  Henry  Wotton,  by  which 
he  then  knighted  him. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  king  having  resolved,  according  to  his 
motto  (Beati  pacifici)  to  have  a  friendship  with  his  neighbour- 
kingdoms  of  France  and  Spain 8,  and  also  for  divers  weighty  rea- 
sons, to  enter  into  an  alliance  with  the  state  of  Venice,  and  to 
that  end  to  send  ambassadors  to  those  several  places,  did  propose 
the  choice  of  these  employments  to  sir  Henry  Wotton ;  who 
considering  the  smallness  of  his  own  estate  (which  he  never  took 

8  France  and  Spain.']  With  France  Elizabeth  had  always  maintained  a  close 
alliance,  but  even  to  the  day  of  her  death  she  held  no  diplomatic  intercourse 
with  Spain.  By  James,  soon  after  his  accession,  sir  Charles  Cornwallis  was  sent 
to  Spain,  where  he  remained  for  several  years.  His  negotiations  are  in  the 
British  Museum,  and  many  of  them  have  been  printed  in  Winwood's  memo- 
rials. Sir  Thomas  Parry  was  the  ambassador  sent  by  James  to  France. 


care  to  augment)  and  knowing  the  courts  of  great  princes  to  be 
sumptuous,  and  necessarily  expensive,  inclined  most  to  that  of 
Venice 9,  as  being  a  place  of  more  retirement,  and  best  suiting 
with  his  genius,  who  did  ever  love  to  join  with  business,  study, 
and  a  trial  of  natural  experiments  ;  for  both  which  fruitful  Italy, 
that  darling  of  nature,  and  cherisher  of  all  arts,  is  so  justly  famed 
in  all  parts  of  the  Christian  world. 

Sir  Henry  having  after  some  short  time  and  consideration, 
resolved  upon  Venice,  and  a  large  allowance  being  appointed  by 
the  king  for  his  voyage  thither,  and  settled  maintenance  during 
his  stay  there,  he  left  England,  nobly  accompanied  through 
France  to  Venice,  by  gentlemen  of  the  best  families  and  breeding 
that  this  nation  afforded.  They  were  too  many  to  name,  but 
these  two,  for  following  reasons  may  not  be  omitted ;  sir  Al- 
bertus  Morton1  his  nephew,  who  went  his  secretary;  and  William 
Bedel 2,  a  man  of  choice  learning,  and  sanctified  wisdom,  who  went 
his  chaplain.  And  though  his  dear  friend  doctor  Donne  (then  a 
private  gentleman)  was  not  one  of  that  number  that  did  personally 
accompany  him  in  this  voyage,  yet  the  reading  of  this  following 
letter  sent  by  him  to  sir  Henry  Wotton,  the  morning  before  he 
left  England,  may  testify  he  wanted  not  his  friend's  best  wishes 
to  attend  him. 

After  those  reverend  papers,  whose  soul  is 

Our  good,  and  great  king's  loved  hand,  and  feared  name : 

By  which  to  you  he  derives  much  of  his, 
And  how  he  may,  makes  you  almost  the  same : 

A  taper  of  his  torch ;  a  copy  writ 

From  his  original,  and  a  fair  beam 
Of  the  same  warm  and  dazzling  sun,  though  it 

Must  in  another  sphere  his  virtue  stream  : 

9  That  of  Venice.]  With  the  seignory  of  Venice  Elizabeth  had  held  no 
intercourse.  She  neither  sent  nor  received  an  ambassador  throughout  her 
long  reign.  Immediately  upon  her  death,  the  secretary  of  the  republic,  Sca- 
ramelli,  was  sent  to  congratulate  James.  The  Venetian  ambassadors  in  France 
were  ordered  to  come  over  to  England  for  the  same  purpose,  and  for  more 
than  a  century  and  a  half,  with  scarcely  any  intermission,  a  Venetian  resident 
was  at  the  court  of  England. 

1  Sir  Albertus  Morton  his  nephew.]  Sir  Albertus  Morton  was  not  Wotton's 
nephew,  but  his  half-brother.  See  p.  72. 

-  William  Bedel.]  Afterwards  bishop  of  Kilmore,  whose  life  has  been 
written  by  bishop  Burnet. 


After  those  learned  papers  which  your  hand 

Hath  stored  with  notes  of  use  and  pleasure  too  ; 

From  which  rich  treasury  you  may  command 
Fit  matter  whether  you  will  write  or  do  : 

After  those  loving  papers  which  friends  send 
With  glad  grief  to  your  sea-ward  steps  farewel, 

And  thicken  on  you  now  as  prayers  ascend 

To  heaven  on  troops  at  a  good  man's  passing-bell : 

Admit  this  honest  paper ;  and  allow 

It  such  an  audience  as  yourself  would  ask ; 
What  you  would  say  at  Venice,  this  says  now, 

And  has  for  nature  what  you  have  for  task  : 

To  swear  much  love ;  nor  to  be  changed  before 

Honour  alone  will  to  your  fortune  fit ; 
Nor  shall  I  then  honour  your  fortune  more, 

Than  I  have  done  your  honour-wanting  wit. 

But  'tis  an  easier  load  (though  both  oppress) 

To  want,  than  govern  greatness ;  for  we  are 
In  that,  our  own  and  only  business  ; 

In  this,  we  must  for  others  vices  care. 

'Tis  therefore  well,  your  spirits  now  are  plac'd 

In  their  last  furnace,  in  activity ; 
Which  fits  them  :  schools,  and  courts,  and  wars  o'er  past 

To  touch  and  taste  in  any  best  degree. 

For  me  !  (if  there  be  such  a  thing  as  I) 

Fortune  (if  there  be  such  a  thing  as  she) 
Finds  that  I  bear  so  well  her  tyranny, 

That  she  thinks  nothing  else  so  fit  for  me. 

But  though  she  part  us,  to  hear  my  oft  prayers 

For  your  increase,  God  is  as  near  me  here : 
And  to  send  you  what  I  shall  beg,  his  stairs 

In  length  and  ease,  are  alike  every  where. 


Sir  Henry  Wotton  was  received  by  the  state  of  Venice  with 
much  honour  and  gladness,  both  for  that  he  delivered  his  ambas- 
sage  most  elegantly  in  the  Italian  language,  and  came  also  in 
such  a  juncture  of  time,  as  his  master's  friendship  seemed  useful 
for  that  republic.  The  time  of  his  coming  thither  was  about  the 
year  1604,  Leonardo  Donato  being  then  duke  ;  a  wise  and  re- 
solved man,  and  to  all  purposes  such  (sir  Henry  Wotton  would 
often  say  it)  as  the  state  of  Venice  could  not  then  have  wanted  ; 
there  having  been  formerly  in  the  time  of  pope  Clement  the 


eighth3,  some  contests  about  the  privileges  of  churchmen,  and 
power  of  the  civil  magistrate ;  of  which  for  the  information  of 
common  readers,  I  shall  say  a  little,  because  it  may  give  light  to 
some  passages  that  follow. 

About  the  year  1603,  the  republic  of  Venice  made  several 
injunctions  against  lay-persons  giving  lands  or  goods  to  the 
church,  without  licence  from  the  civil  magistrate  ;  and  in  that 
inhibition  they  expressed  their  reasons  to  be,  "  For  that  when 
any  goods  or  land  once  came  into  the  hands  of  the  ecclesiastics, 
it  was  not  subject  to  alienation;  by  reason  whereof  (the  lay- 
people  being  at  their  death  charitable  even  to  excess)  the  clergy 
grew  every  day  more  numerous,  and  pretended  an  exemption 
from  all  public  service,  and  taxes,  and  from  all  secular  judgment : 
so  that  the  burden  grew  thereby  too  heavy  to  be  borne  by  the 

Another  occasion  of  difference  was,  that  about  this  time  com- 
plaints were  justly  made  by  the  Venetians  against  two  clergymen, 
the  abbot  of  Nervesa,  and  a  canon  of  Vicenza,  for  committing 
such  sins,  as  I  think  not  fit  to  name  :  nor  are  these  mentioned 
with  an  intent  to  fix  a  scandal  upon  any  calling ;  (for  holiness  is 
not  tied  to  ecclesiastical  orders,  and  Italy  is  observed  to  breed 
the  most  virtuous  and  most  vicious  men  of  any  nation.)  These 
two  having  been  long  complained  of  at  Rome  in  the  name  of  the 
state  of  Venice,  and  no  satisfaction  being  given  to  the  Venetians, 
they  seized  the  persons  of  this  abbot  and  canon,  and  committed 
them  to  prison. 

The  justice,  or  injustice  of  such  or  the  like  power,  then  used 
by  the  Venetians,  had  formerly  had  some  calm  debates  betwixt 
the  former  pope  Clement  the  eighth,  and  that  republic :  I  say, 
calm,  for  he  did  not  excommunicate  them ;  considering  (as  I  con- 
ceive) that  in  the  late  council  of  Trent  it  was  at  last  (after  many 
politique  disturbances,  and  delays,  and  endeavours  to  preserve  the 
pope's  present  power)  in  order  to  a  general  reformation  of  those 
many  errors,  which  were  in  time  crept  into  the  church,  declared 
by  that  council  *,  "  That  though  discipline,  and  especially  excom- 
munication, be  one  of  the  chief  sinews  of  church  government, 
and  intended  to  keep  men  in  obedience  to  it :  for  which  end,  it 

8  Clement  the  eighth.']    Ippolito  Aldobrandini,   pope   from  7th  February, 
1592,  to  5th  March,  1605. 
4  By  that  council.]  Concil.  Trident,  sets.  xrv.  cap.  iii. 


was  declared  to  be  very  profitable ;  yet,  it  was  also  declared  and 
advised  to  be  used  with  great  sobriety  and  care  :  because  expe- 
rience had  informed  them,  that  when  it  was  pronounced  unad- 
visedly, or  rashly,  it  became  more  contemned  than  feared."  And, 
though  this  was  the  advice  of  that  council  at  the  conclusion  of  it 
which  was  not  many  years  before  this  quarrel  with  the  Vene- 
tians ;  yet  this  prudent,  patient  pope  Clement  dying,  pope  Paul 
the  fifth 5,  who  succeeded  him  (though  not  immediately 6,  yet  in 
the  same  year)  being  a  man  of  a  much  hotter  temper,  brought  this 
difference  with  the  Venetians 7  to  a  much  higher  contention  :  ob- 
jecting those  late  acts  of  that  state  to  be  a  diminution  of  his  just 
power,  and  limited  a  time  of  twenty-four  days  for  their  revoca- 
tion ;  threatening,  if  he  were  not  obeyed,  to  proceed  to  excommu- 
nication of  the  republic,  who  still  offered  to  show  both  reason  and 
antient  custom  to  warrant  their  actions.  But  this  pope,  contrary 
to  his  predecessor's  moderation,  required  absolute  obedience 
without  disputes. 

Thus  it  continued  for  about  a  year ;  the  pope  still  threatening 
excommunication,  and  the  Venetians  still  answering  him  with 
fair  speeches,  and  no  compliance,  till  at  last,  the  pope's  zeal  to 
the  apostolic  see  did  make  him  excommunicate  the  duke,  the 
whole  senate,  and  all  their  dominions ;  and  that  done  to  shut  up 
all  their  churches ;  charging  the  whole  clergy  to  forbear  all  sacred 
offices  to  the  Venetians,  till  their  obedience  should  render  them 
capable  of  absolution. 

But  this  act  of  the  pope's  did  but  the  more  confirm  the  Vene- 
tians in  their  resolution  not  to  obey  him.  And  to  that  end,  upon 
the  hearing  of  the  pope's  interdict,  they  presently  published  by 
sound  of  trumpet,  a  proclamation  to  this  effect : 

"  That  whosoever  hath  received  from  Rome  any  copy  of  a  papal 
interdict,  published  there,  as  well  against  the  law  of  God,  as 
against  the  honour  of  this  nation,  shall  presently  render  it  to  the 

5  Paul  the  fifth.}  Camillo  Borghese,  pope  from  16th  May,  1 605,  to  28th 
January,  1621. 

6  Not  immediately.']   After  the  death  of  Clement  VIII.,  the  cardinal  of 
Florence,  Alessandro  Ottaviano  de'  Medici,  had  been  elected  pope,  1st  April, 
1605,  and  he  had  taken  the  title  of  Leo  XL,  but  he  died  on  the  27th  of  the 
same  month. 

7  Difference  with  the  Venetians.']  A  volume  might  be  filled  merely  with  an 
account  of  what  has  been  written  on  both  sides  respecting  this  celebrated 
dispute  and  the  consequent  interdict. 


council  of  ten,  upon  pain  of  death."  And  they  made  it  loss  of 
estate  and  nobility,  but  to  speak  in  the  behalf  of  the  Jesuits. 

Then  was  Duado  *  their  ambassador  called  home  from  Rome, 
and  the  Inquisition  presently  suspended  by  order  of  the  state ; 
and  the  flood-gates  being  thus  set  open,  any  man  that  had  a  plea- 
sant or  scoffing  wit  might  safely  vent  it  against  the  pope,  either 
by  free  speaking,  or  by  libels  in  print ;  and  both  became  very 
pleasant  to  the  people. 

Matters  thus  heightened,  the  state  advised  with  father  Paul,  a 
holy  and  learned  frier  (the  author  of  the  History  of  the  Council 
of  Trent,  whose  advice  was,  "  Neither  to  provoke  the  pope,  nor 
lose  their  own  right :"  he  declaring  publicly  in  print,  in  the  name 
of  the  state,  "  That  the  pope  was  trusted  to  keep  two  keys  ;  one 
of  prudence  and  the  other  of  power :  and  that  if  they  were  not 
both  used  together,  power  alone  is  not  effectual  in  an  excommu- 

And  thus  these  discontents  and  oppositions  continued,  till  a 
report  was  blown  abroad,  that  the  Venetians  were  all  turned  pro- 
testants :  which  was  believed  by  many,  for  that  it  was  observed, 
the  English  ambassador  was  so  often  in  conference  with  the 
senate,  and  his  chaplain  Mr.  Bedel  more  often  with  father  Paul 9, 
whom  the  people  did  not  take  to  be  his  friend :  and  also,  for  that 
the  republic  of  Venice  was  known  to  give  commission  to  Gregory 
Justiniano  *,  then  their  ambassador  in  England,  to  make  all  these 
proceedings  known  to  the  king  of  England,  and  to  crave  a  pro- 
mise of  his  assistance,  if  need  should  require  :  and  in  the  mean- 
time they  required  the  king's  advice  and  judgment ;  which  was 
the  same  that  he  gave  to  pope  Clement,  at  his  first  coming  to  the 
crown  of  England ;  (that  pope  then  moving  him  to  an  union  with 
the  Roman  church)  namely,  u  To  endeavour  the  calling  of  a  free 
council,  for  the  settlement  of  peace  in  Christendom :  and,  that  he 
doubted  not,  but  that  the  French  king,  and  divers  other  princes 
would  join  to  assist  in  so  good  a  work ;  and  in  the  mean  time, 
the  sin  of  this  breach,  both  with  his,  and  the  Venetians'1  dominions, 
must  of  necessity  lye  at  the  pope's  door." 

8  Was  Duado. .]  More  correctly  Duodo.     Pietro  Duodo  was  ambassador  in 
England  with  Badoero,  in  1603 :  there  is  still  extant  in  the  British  Museum 
an  original  letter  of  sir  Henry  Wotton,  in  which  the  circumstances  here 
alluded  to  are  given. 

9  Father  Paul.']  Paolo  Sarpi. 

1  Gregory  Justiniano.']  Or  Giorgio  Giustiniani,  ambassador  in  1606. 


In  this  contention  (which  lasted  almost  two  years)  the  pope 
grew  still  higher,  and  the  Venetians  more  and  more  resolved  and 
careless :  still  acquainting  king  James  with  their  proceedings, 
which  was  done  by  the  help  of  sir  Henry  Wotton,  Mr.  Bedel, 
and  Padre  Paulo,  whom  the  Venetians  did  then  call  to  be  one  of 
their  consulters  of  state,  and  with  his  pen  to  defend  their  just 
cause  :  which  was  by  him  so  performed,  that  the  pope  saw  plainly, 
he  had  weakened  his  power  by  exceeding  it,  and  offered  the 
Venetians  absolution  upon  very  easy  terms ;  which  the  Venetians 
still  slighting,  did  at  last  obtain,  by  that  which  was  scarce  so 
much  as  a  shew  of  acknowledging  it :  for,  they  made  an  order, 
that  in  that  day  in  which  they  were  absolved,  there  should  be  no 
public  rejoicing,  nor  any  bonfires  that  night,  lest  the  common 
people  might  judge,  that  they  desired  an  absolution,  or  were  ab- 
solved for  committing  a  fault. 

These  contests  were  the  occasion  of  Padre  Paulo's  knowledge 
and  interest  with  king  James,  for  whose  sake  principally  Padre 
Paulo  compiled  that  eminent  History  of  the  remarkable  Council 
of  Trent ;  which  history  was,  as  fast  as  it  was  written,  sent  in 
several  sheets  in  letters  by  sir  Henry  Wotton,  Mr.  Bedel,  and 
others,  unto  king  James,  and  the  then  bishop  of  Canterbury,  into 
England,  and  there  first  made  public,  both  in  English  and  in  the 
universal  language  2. 

For  eight  years  after  sir  Henry  Wotton's  going  into  Italy,  he 
stood  fair  and  highly  valued  in  the  king's  opinion,  but  at  last 
became  much  clouded  by  an  accident,  which  I  shall  proceed  to 

At  his  first  going  ambassador  into  Italy,  as  he  passed  through 
Germany,  he  stayed  some  days  at  Augusta 3 ;  where  having  been 
in  his  former  travels  well  known  by  many  of  the  best  note  for 
learning  and  ingeniousness  (those  that  are  esteemed  the  virtuosi 
of  that  nation)  with  whom  he  passing  an  evening  in  merriment, 
was  requested  by  Christopher  Flecamore  to  write  some  sentence 
in  his  albo :  (a  book  of  white  paper,  which  for  that  purpose  many 
of  the  German  gentry  usually  *  carry  about  them)  and  sir  Henry 
Wotton  consenting  to  the  motion,  took  an  occasion  from  some 

"  Universal  language.']  Latin. 

3  Augusta.~\  Augsburg. 

1  Usually  J\  In  the  British  Museum  are  several  hundred  of  these  albums. 


accidental  discourse  of  the  present  company,  to  write  a  pleasant 
definition  of  an  ambassador,  in  these  very  words : 

"  Legatus  est  vir  bonus  peregre  missus  ad  mentiendum  reipublicae  causa." 

Which  sir  Henry  Wotton  could  have  been  content  should  have 
been  thus  Englished : 

"  An  ambassador  is  an  honest  man,  sent  to  lie  abroad  for  the  good  of  his 

But  the  word  for  lie  (being  the  hinge  upon  which  the  conceit  * 
was  to  turn)  was  not  so  exprest  in  Latin,  as  would  admit  (in  the 
hands  of  an  enemy  especially)  so  fair  a  construction  as  sir  Henry 
thought  in  English.  Yet  as  it  was,  it  slept  quietly  among  other 
sentences  in  this  albo,  almost  eight  years,  till  by  accident  it  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Jasper  Scioppius,  a  Romanist,  a  man  of  a  rest- 
less spirit,  and  a  malicious  pen :  who  with  books  against  king 
James,  prints  this  as  a  principle  of  that  religion  professed  by  the 
king,  and  his  ambassador  sir  Henry  Wotton,  then  at  Venice: 
and  in  Venice  it  was  presently  after  written  in  several  glass  win- 
dows, and  spitefully  declared  to  be  sir  Henry  Wotton's. 

This  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  king  James,  he  apprehended 
it  to  be  such  an  oversight,  such  a  weakness,  or  worse,  in  sir 
Henry  Wotton,  as  caused  the  king  to  express  much  wrath 
against  him :  and  this  caused  sir  Henry  Wotton  to  write  two 
apologies,  one  to  Velserus 6  (one  of  the  chiefs  of  Augusta)  in 
the  universal  language,  which  he  caused  to  be  printed,  and  given, 
and  scattered  in  the  most  remarkable  places  both  of  Germany 
and  Italy,  as  an  antidote  against  the  venomous  books  of  Sciop- 
pius ;  and  another  apology  to  king  James :  which  were  both  so 
ingenious,  so  clear,  and  so  choicely  eloquent,  that  his  majesty 
(who  was  a  pure  judge  of  it)  could  not  forbear,  at  the  receipt 
thereof,  to  declare  publicly,  "  That  sir  Henry  Wotton  had  com- 
muted sufficiently  for  a  greater  offence." 

And  now,  as  broken  bones  well  set  become  stronger,  so  sir 
Henry  Wotton  did  not  only  recover,  but  was  much  more  con- 

6  The  conceit. ~\  Being  a  mere  pun  upon  the  term  lieger,  to  lie  or  remain  in 
a  place,  applied  commonly  to  a  resident  or  fixed  ambassador.  The  word  was 
used  in  monasteries,  which  had  their  lieger  books,  or  books  which  lay  open 
for  entries,  and  it  is  still  used  in  every  counting-house.  It  is  probably  also 
the  log  book  of  the  seamen. 

*  To  Velserus.']  Marc  Welser,  prefect  of  Augsburg. 


firmed  in  his  majesty's  estimation  and  favour  than  formerly  he 
had  been. 

And  as  that  man  of  great  wit  and  useful  fancy  (his  friend  Dr. 
Donne)  gave  in  a  will  of  his  (a  will  of  conceits)  his  reputation  to 
his  friends,  and  his  industry  to  his  foes,  because  from  thence  he 
received  both :  so  those  friends,  that  in  this  time  of  trial  la- 
boured to  excuse  this  facetious  freedom  of  sir  Henry  Wotton's, 
were  to  him  more  dear,  and  by  him  more  highly  valued  :  and 
those  acquaintance  that  urged  this  as  an  advantage  against  him, 
caused  him  by  this  error  to  grow  both  more  wise,  and  (which  is 
the  best  fruit  error  can  bring  forth)  for  the  future  to  become 
more  industriously  watchful  over  his  tongue  and  pen. 

I  have  told  you  a  part  of  his  employment  in  Italy ;  where  not- 
withstanding the  death  of  his  favourer,  the  duke  Leonardo  Do- 
nato,  who  had  an  undissembled  affection  for  him,  and  the  mali- 
cious accusation  of  Scioppius,  yet  his  interest  (as  though  it  had 
been  an  intailed  love)  was  still  found  to  live  and  increase  in  all 
the  succeeding  dukes,  during  his  employment  to  that  state,  which 
was  almost  twenty  years ;  all  which  time  he  studied  the  disposi- 
tions of  those  dukes,  and  the  other  consulters  of  state ;  well 
knowing,  that  he  who  negociates  a  continued  business,  and 
neglects  the  study  of  the  dispositions,  usually  fails  in  his  proposed 
ends :  but  in  this  sir  Henry  Wotton  did  not  fail :  for  by  a  fine 
sorting  of  fit  presents,  curious  and  not  costly  entertainments, 
always  sweetened  by  various  and  pleasant  discourse ;  with  which, 
and  his  choice  application  of  stories,  and  his  elegant  delivery  of 
all  these,  even  in  their  Italian  language,  he  first  got,  and  still 
preserved  such  interest  in  the  state  of  Venice,  that  it  was  ob- 
served (such  was  either  his  merit,  or  his  modesty)  they  never 
denied  him  any  request. 

But  all  this  shews  but  his  abilities,  and  his  fitness  for  that 
employment :  it  will  therefore  be  needful  to  tell  the  reader,  what 
use  he  made  of  the  interest  which  these  procured  him ;  and  that 
indeed  was,  rather  to  oblige  others  than  to  enrich  himself;  he 
still  endeavouring  that  the  reputation  of  the  English  might  be 
maintained,  both  in  the  German  empire  and  in  Italy ;  where  many 
gentlemen  whom  travel  had  invited  into  that  nation,  received 
from  him  cheerful  entertainments,  advice  for  their  behaviour, 
and  by  his  interest  shelter,  or  deliverance  from  those  accidental 
storms  of  adversity  which  usually  attend  upon  travel. 

And  because  these  things  may  appear  to  the  reader  to  be  but 


generals,  I  shall  acquaint  him  with  two  particular  examples :  one 
of  his  merciful  disposition,  and  one  of  the  nobleness  of  his  mind  ; 
which  shall  follow. 

There  had  been  many  English  soldiers  brought  by  commanders 
of  their  own  country,  to  serve  the  Venetians  for  pay  against  the 
Turks ;  and  those  English,  having  by  irregularities,  or  improvi- 
dence, brought  themselves  into  several  gallies  and  prisons,  sir 
Henry  Wotton  became  a  petitioner  to  that  state  for  their  lives 
and  enlargement ;  and  his  request  was  granted :  so  that  those 
(which  were  many  hundreds,  and  there  made  the  sad  examples 
of  human  misery,  by  hard  imprisonment,  and  unpitied  poverty  in 
a  strange  nation)  were  by  his  means  released,  relieved,  and  in  a 
comfortable  condition  sent  to  thank  God  and  him  for  their  lives 
and  liberty  in  their  own  country. 

And  this  1  have  observed  as  one  testimony  of  the  compas- 
sionate nature  of  him,  who  was  (during  his  stay  in  those  parts) 
as  a  city  of  refuge  for  the  distressed  of  this  and  other  nations. 

And  for  that  which  I  offer  as  a  testimony  of  the  nobleness 
of  his  mind,  I  shall  make  way  to  the  reader's  clearer  under- 
standing of  it,  by  telling  him,  that  beside  several  other  foreign 
employments,  sir  Henry  Wotton  was  sent  thrice  ambassador f  to 
the  republic  of  Venice ;  and  at  his  last  going  thither,  he  was 
employed  ambassador  to  several  of  the  German  princes,  and  more 
particularly  to  the  emperor  Ferdinando  the  second ;  and  that  his 
employment  to  him,  and  those  princes,  was  to  incline  them  to 
equitable  conditions,  for  the  restauration  of  the  queen  of  Bo- 
hemia 8,  and  her  descendants,  to  their  patrimonial  inheritance  of 
the  palatinate. 

This  was  by  his  eight  months  constant  endeavours  and  at- 
tendance upon  the  emperor,  his  court  and  council,  brought  to 
a  probability  of  a  successful  conclusion  without  blood-shed  :  but 
there  was  at  that  time  two  opposite  armies  in  the  field ;  and  as 
they  were  treating,  there  was  a  battle  fought 9 ;  in  the  managery 
whereof,  there  was  so  many  miserable  errors  on  the  one  side,  (so 
sir  Henry  Wotton  expresses  it  in  a  dispatch  to  the  king)  and 

^  Thrice  ambassador.]  In  March,  1604;  in  1605  (Harl.  MS.  1875,  art.  17, 
&c.)  and  1622  (see  Cabala,  p.  364). 

8  Queen  of  Bohemia.]   Elizabeth  of  England,  daughter  of  James  I.,  and 
wife  of  the  palgrave,  or  elector  palatine  Frederic,  who  had  forfeited  his  domi- 
nions by  his  assumption  of  the  throne  of  Bohemia. 

9  Battle  fouyht.]  The  battle  of  Prague,  November,  1620. 


so  advantageous  events  to  the  emperor,  as  put  an  end  to  all 
present  hopes  of  a  successful  treaty :  so  that  sir  Henry,  seeing 
the  face  of  peace  altered  by  that  victory,  prepared  for  a  removal 
from  that  court ;  and  at  his  departure  from  the  emperor,  was  so 
bold  as  to  remember  him,  "  That  the  events  of  every  battle  move 
on  the  unseen  wheels  of  fortune,  which  are  this  moment  up,  and 
down  the  next :  and  therefore  humbly  advised  him  to  use  his 
victory  so  soberly,  as  still  to  put  on  thoughts  of  peace."  Which 
advice,  though  it  seemed  to  be  spoke  with  some  passion,  (his 
dear  mistress  the  queen  of  Bohemia  being  concerned  in  it)  was 
yet  taken  in  good  part  by  the  emperor;  who  replied,  "  That  he 
would  consider  his  advice  :  and  though  he  looked  on  the  king  his 
master  as  an  abettor  of  his  enemy  the  Palsgrave ;  yet  for  sir 
Henry  himself,  his  behaviour  had  been  such  during  the  manage 
of  the  treaty,  that  he  took  him  to  be  a  person  of  much  honour 
and  merit,  and  did  therefore  desire  him  to  accept  of  that  jewel, 
as  a  testimony  of  his  good  opinion  of  him ;"  which  was  a  jewel  of 
diamonds  of  more  value  than  a  thousand  pounds. 

This  jewel  was  received  with  all  outward  circumstances  and 
terms  of  honour  by  sir  Henry  Wotton :  but  the  next  morning, 
at  his  departing  from  Vienna,  he  at  his  taking  leave  of  the 
countess  of  Sabrina  (an  Italian  lady,  in  whose  house  the  emperor 
had  appointed  him  to  be  lodged,  and  honourably  entertained) 
acknowledged  her  merits,  and  besought  her  to  accept  of  that 
jewel,  as  a  testimony  of  his  gratitude  for  her  civilities ;  presenting 
her  with  the  same  that  was  given  him  by  the  emperor :  which 
being  suddenly  discovered,  and  told  to  the  emperor,  was  by  him 
taken  for  a  high  affront,  and  sir  Henry  Wotton  told  so  by  a 
messenger.  To  which  he  replied,  "  That  though  he  received  it 
with  thankfulness,  yet  he  found  in  himself  an  indisposition  to  be 
the  better  for  any  gift  that  came  from  an  enemy  to  his  royal 
mistress  the  queen  of  Bohemia;"  for  so  she  was  pleased  he 
should  always  call  her. 

Many  other  of  his  services  to  his  prince,  and  this  nation,  might 
be  insisted  upon :  as  namely,  his  procurations  of  privileges  and 
courtesies  with  the  German  princes,  and  the  republic  of  Venice, 
for  the  English  merchants ;  and  what  he  did  by  direction  of  king 
James  with  the  Venetian  state,  concerning  the  bishop  of  Spalato's 
return l  to  the  church  of  Rome.  But  for  the  particulars  of  these 

1  The  bishop  of  Spalato's  return.']    See  M.  Ant.  de  Dominis  archbishop  of 


and  many  more  that  I  meant  to  make  known,  I  want  a  view  of 
some  papers  that  might  inform  me  (his  late  majesty^s  letter  office 
having  now  suffered*  a  strange  alienation)  and  indeed  I  want 
time  too,  for  the  printer's  press  stays  for  what  is  written :  so  that 
I  must  haste  to  bring  sir  Henry  Wotton  in  an  instant  from  Venice 
to  London,  leaving  the  reader  to  make  up  what  is  defective  in 
this  place  by  the  small  supplement  of  the  inscription  under  his 
arms,  which  he  left  at  all  those  houses  where  he  rested,  or  lodged, 
when  he  returned  from  his  last  embassy  into  England. 

"  Henricus  Wottonius  Anglo-Cantianus,  Thomae  optimi  viri 
filius  natu  minimus,  a  serenissimo  Jacobo  I.  Mag.  Britt.  rege, 
in  equestrem  titulum  adscitus,  ejusdemque  ter  ad  rempublicam 
Venetam  legatus  ordinarius,  semel  ad  confoederatarum  provin- 
ciarum  ordines  in  Juliacensi  negotio ;  bis  ad  Carolum  Emanuel, 
Sabaudise  ducem ;  semel  ad  unitos  superioris  Germanise  principes 
in  Conventu  Heilbrunensi ;  postremo  ad  archiducem  Leopoldum, 
ducem  Wittembergensem,  civitates  imperiales,  Argentinam, 
Ulmamque,  et  ipsum  Eomanorum  imperatorem  Ferdinandum 
secundum,  legatus  extraordinarius,  tandem  hoc  didicit, 

"  Animas  fieri  sapientiores  quiescendo." 

To  London  he  came  the  year  before 8  king  James  died ;  who 
having  for  the  reward  of  his  foreign  service,  promised  him  the 
reversion  of  an  office  which  was  fit  to  be  turned  into  present 
money,  which  he  wanted,  for  a  supply  of  his  present  necessities, 
also  granted  him  the  reversion  of  the  master  of  the  rolls  place, 
if  he  out-lived  charitable  sir  Julius  Caesar,  who  then  possessed  it, 
and  then  was  grown  so  old,  that  he  was  said  to  be  kept  alive 
beyond  nature's  course,  by  the  prayers  of  those  many  poor  which 
he  daily  relieved. 

Spalato,  his  shif tings  in  Religion.  London,  printed  by  John  Bill,  A.D.  1624  ; 
Heylin's  Life  of  archbishop  Laud,  p.  107 — 9;  Banvick's  Life  of  bishop 
Morton,  p.  85—8 ;  Wood's  Annals,  vol.  ii.  p.  328,  &c. 

A  copy  of  the  first  tract,  as  we  learn  from  the  Address  to  the  Reader, 
"  was  by  his  majesty's  special  commandment  sent  to  sir  H.  Wotton,  his 
majesty's  ambassador  ordinary  with  the  state  of  Venice,  that  he  might,  as 
occasion  served,  inform  that  state  concerning  the  true  carriage  of  that  busi- 
ness with  the  archbishop." 

8  Now  suffered. ]  This  Life  was  first  published  in  the  year  1651;  a  date 
which  sufficiently  accounts  for  the  tone  of  expression  in  this  passage. 

3   Year  before.]  1624. 


But,  these  were  but  in  hope ;  and  his  condition  required  a 
present  support.  For  in  the  beginning  of  these  employments  he 
sold  to  his  elder  brother  the  lord  Wotton,  the  rent-charge  left 
by  his  good  father,  and  (which  is  worse)  was  now  at  his  return 
indebted  to  several  persons,  whom  he  was  not  able  to  satisfy,  but 
by  the  king's  payment  of  his  arrears  due  for  his  foreign  employ- 
ments. He  had  brought  into  England  many  servants,  of  which 
some  were  German  and  Italian  artists.  This  was  part  of  his 
condition,  who  had  many  times  hardly  sufficient  to  supply  the 
occasions  of  the  day ;  (for  it  may  by  no  means  be  said  of  his 
providence,  as  himself  said  of  sir  Philip  Sidney's  wit,  That  it  was 
the  very  measure  of  congruity)  he  being  always  so  careless  of 
money,  as  though  our  Saviour's  words,  Care  not  for  to-morrow, 
were  to  be  literally  understood. 

But  it  pleased  the  God  of  providence,  that  in  this  juncture  of 
time,  the  provostship  of  his  majesty's  college  of  Eton  became 
void  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Thomas  Murray 4,  for  which  there  were 
(as  the  place  deserved)  many  earnest  and  powerful  suiters 5  to  the 
king.  And  sir  Henry,  who  had  for  many  years  (like  Sisyphus) 
rolled  the  restless  stone  of  a  state  employment,  knowing  experi- 
mentally, that  the  great  blessing  of  sweet  content  was  not  to  be 
found  in  multitudes  of  men  or  business ;  and  that  a  college  was 
the  fittest  place  to  nourish  holy  thoughts,  and  to  afford  rest  both 
to  his  body  and  mind,  which  his  age  (being  now  almost  threescore 
years)  seemed  to  require,  did  therefore  use  his  own,  and  the 
interest  of  all  his  friends  to  procure  that  place.  By  which  means, 
and  quitting  the  king  of  his  promised  reversionary  offices,  and  by 
a  piece  of  honest  policy  (which  I  have  not  time  to  relate)  he  got 
a  grant  of  it 6  from  his  majesty. 

And  this  was  a  fair  satisfaction  to  his  mind :  but  money  was 
wanting7  to  furnish  him  with  those  necessaries  which  attend 

4  Mr.  Thomas  Murray. ~\  Who  had  succeeded  sir  Henry  Savile  as  provost. 

5  Powerful  suiters.~\  Two  of  these  were  lord  Bacon  and  sir  Wm.  Becher. 
See  Bacon's  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  345,  6.  edit.  1803.     Sir  William  Becher  asserts, 
in  a  letter  to  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  that  he  had  from  the  king  an  express 
promise  of  the  place.     Amongst  the  other  candidates  were  sir  Albertus 
Morton,  sir  Dudley  Carleton,  and  sir  Robert  Ayton. 

0  A  grant  of  it.']  He  was  instituted  26th  July,  1624. 

7  Money  was  wanting.']  "  When  he  went  to  the  election  at  Eton,  soon  after 
his  being  made  provost,  he  was  so  ill  provided,  that  the  fellows  of  the  college 
were  obliged  to  furnish  his  bare  walls,  and  whatever  else  was  wanting."  See 
Birch's  Letters  of  Lord  Chancellor  Bacon,  p.  338,  note. 


removes,  and  a  settlement  in  such  a  place ;  and,  to  procure  that, 
he  wrote  to  his  old  friend  Mr.  Nicholas  Pey,  for  his  assistance ; 
of  which  Nicholas  Pey,  I  shall  here  say  a  little,  for  the  clearing 
of  some  passages  that  I  shall  mention  hereafter. 

He  was  in  his  youth  a  clerk,  or  in  some  such  way,  a  servant  to 
the  lord  Wotton,  sir  Henry^s  brother ;  and  by  him,  when  he  was 
comptroller  of  the  king's  houshold,  was  made  a  great  officer  in 
his  majesty's  house.  This,  and  other  favours  being  conferred  upon 
Mr.  Pey  (in  whom  there  was  a  radical  honesty)  were  always 
thankfully  acknowledged  by  him,  and  his  gratitude  exprest  by  a 
willing  and  unwearied  serviceableness  to  that  family  even  till  his 
death.  To  him  sir  Henry  Wotton  wrote,  to  use  all  his  interest 
at  court,  to  procure  five  hundred  pounds  of  his  arrears,  (for  less 
would  not  settle  him  in  the  college)  and  the  want  of  such  a  sum 
wrinkled  Ms  face  with  care  (it  was  his  own  expression)  ;  and  that 
money  being  procured,  he  should  the  next  day  after  find  him  in 
his  college,  and  Invidice  remedium  writ  over  his  study-door. 

This  money,  being  part  of  his  arrears,  was  by  his  own,  and  the 
help  of  honest  Nicholas  Pey's  interest  in  court,  quickly  procured 
him ;  and  he  as  quickly  in  the  college  ;  the  place  where  indeed 
his  happiness  then  seemed  to  have  its  beginning :  the  college 
being  to  his  mind  as  a  quiet  harbour  to  a  sea-faring  man  after  a 
tempestuous  voyage ;  where,  by  the  bounty  of  the  pious  founder  *, 
his  very  food  and  raiment  were  plentifully  provided  for  him  in 
kind,  and  more  money  than  enough ;  where  he  was  freed  from  all 
corroding  cares,  and  seated  on  such  a  rock,  as  the  waves  of 
want  could  not  probably  shake;  where  he  might  sit  in  a  calm9, 
and  looking  down,  behold  the  busy  multitude  turmoilod  and 
tossed  in  a  tempestuous  sea  of  trouble  and  dangers  !  And  (as 
sir  William  Davenant  has  happily  exprest  the  like  of  another 

"  Laugh  at  the  graver  business  of  the  state, 
Which  speaks  men  rather  wise  than  fortunate." 

Being  thus  settled  according  to  the  desires  of  his  heart,  his 

8  Where,  by  the  bounty  of  the  pious  founder."] 

"  Where  grateful  science  still  adores 

Her  Henry's  holy  shade."  Gray. 

9  In  a  calm.'] 

Suave,  mari  magno  turbantibus  aequora  ventis, 
E  terra  magnum  alterius  spec  tare  laborem. 

Lucretius,  ii.  1. 


first  study  was  the  statutes  of  the  college  :  by  which  he  conceived 
himself  bound  to  enter  into  holy  orders,  which  he  did ;  being 
made  deacon l  with  all  convenient  speed :  shortly  after  which 
time,  as  he  came  in  his  surplice  from  the  church-service,  an  old 
friend,  a  person  of  quality,  met  him  so  attired,  and  joyed  him  of 
his  new  habit ;  to  whom  sir  Henry  Wotton  replied,  "  I  thank 
God  and  the  king,  by  whose  goodness  I  now  am  in  this  condi- 
tion ;  a  condition,  which  that  emperor  Charles  the  fifth  seemed 
to  approve :  who,  after  so  many  remarkable  victories,  when  his 
glory  was  great  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  freely  gave  up  his  crown, 
and  the  many  cares  that  attended  it,  to  Philip  his  son,  making  a 
holy  retreat  to  a  cloisteral  life,  where  he  might  by  devout  medita- 
tions consult  with  God  (which  the  rich  or  busy  men  seldom  do) 
and  have  leisure  both  to  examine  the  errors  of  his  life  past,  and 
prepare  for  that  great  day,  wherein  all  flesh  must  make  an 
account  of  their  actions.  And  after  a  kind  of  tempestuous  life,  I 
now  have  the  like  advantage  from  him,  that  makes  the  out-goings 
of  the  morning  to  praise  him ;  even  from  my  God,  whom  I  daily 
magnify  for  this  particular  mercy,  of  an  exemption  from  business, 
a  quiet  mind,  and  a  liberal  maintenance,  even  in  this  part  of  my 
life,  when  my  age  and  infirmities  seem  to  sound  me  a  retreat 
from  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  and  invite  me  to  contemplation, 
in  which  I  have  ever  taken  the  greatest  felicity."" 

And  now  to  speak  a  little  of  the  employment  of  his  time  in  the 
college.  After  his  customary  public  devotions,  his  use  was  to 
retire  into  his  study,  and  there  to  spend  some  hours  in  reading 
the  Bible,  and  authors  in  divinity,  closing  up  his  meditations  with 
private  prayer ;  this  was,  for  the  most  part,  his  employment 
in  the  forenoon.  But,  when  he  was  once  sat  to  dinner,  then 
nothing  but  cheerful  thoughts  possessed  his  mind ;  and  those 
still  increased  by  constant  company  at  his  table,  of  such  persons 
as  brought  thither  additions  both  of  learning  and  pleasure ;  but 
some  part  of  most  days  was  usually  spent  in  philosophical  con- 
clusions. Nor  did  he  forget  his  innate  pleasure  of  angling 2, 

1  Made  deacon."]  A.D.  1627.     Upon  this  occasion  he  wrote  an  interesting 
letter  to  the  king,  which  is  preserved  in  his  Remains,  p.  327,  edit.  1685.     His 
design  was  to  have  received  orders  at  the  hands  of  Williams,  bishop  of  Lin- 
coln, visitor  of  his  college ;  but  in  that  he  was  disappointed,  by  a  sudden 
command  from  the  king,  that  Williams  should  quit  London.     See  Remains, 
p.  326. 

2  Innate  pleasure  of  angling .]  "My  next  and  last  example"  (of  the  dear 

VOL.    IV.  H 


which  he  would  usually  call,  his  idle  time,  not  idly  spmt ; 
saying  often,  he  would  rather  live  five  May  months,  than  forty 

He  was  a  great  lover  of  his  neighbours,  and  a  bountiful 
entertainer  of  them  very  often  at  his  table,  where  his  meat  was 
choice,  and  his  discourse  better. 

He  was  a  constant  cherisher  of  all  those  youths  in  that  school, 
in  whom  he  found  either  a  constant  diligence,  or  a  genius  that 
prompted  them  to  learning,  for  whose  encouragement,  he  was 
(beside  many  other  things  of  necessity  and  beauty)  at  the  charge 
of  setting  up  in  it  two  rows  of  pillars,  on  which  he  caused  to  be 
choicely  drawn,  the  pictures  of  divers  of  the  most  famous  Greek 
and  Latin  historians,  poets,  and  orators :  persuading  them  not  to 
neglect  rhetoric,  because  almighty  God  has  left  mankind  affec- 
tions to  be  wrought  upon :  and  he  would  often  say,  That  none 
despised  eloquence,  but  such  dull  souls  as  were  not  capable  of  it. 
He  would  also  often  make  choice  of  some  observations  out  of 
those  historians  and  poets:  and  would  never  leave  the  school 

lovers  and  great  practisers  of  angling,  being  at  the  same  time  eminent  for 
learning)  "  shall  be  that  undervaluer  of  money,  the  late  provost  of  Eton 
college,  sir  Henry  Wotton,  a  man  with  whom  I  have  often  fished  and  con- 
versed ;  a  man  whose  foreign  employments  in  the  service  of  this  nation,  and 
whose  experience,  learning,  wit,  and  cheerfulness,  made  his  company  to  be 
esteemed  one  of  the  delights  of  mankind.  This  man,  whose  very  approba- 
tion of  angling  were  sufficient  to  convince  any  modest  censurer  of  it,  was 
also  a  most  dear  lover,  and  a  frequent  practiser  of  my  art :  of  which  he  would 
say,  '  'Twas  an  employment  for  his  idle  time,  which  was  then  not  idly  spent : 
for  angling  was,  after  tedious  study,  a  rest  to  his  mind,  a  cheerer  of  his  spirits, 
a  diverter  of  sadness,  a  calmer  of  unquiet  thoughts,  a  moderator  of  passions, 
a  procurer  of  contentedness ;  and  that  it  begat  habits  of  peace  and  patience 
in  those  that  professed  and  practised  it.  Indeed,  my  friend,  you  will  find 
angling  to  be  like  the  virtue  of  humility,  which  has  a  calmness  of  spirit,  and 
a  world  of  other  blessings  attending  it.' 

"  Sir,  this  was  the  saying  of  that  learned  man.  And  I  do  easily  believe 
that  peace  and  patience,  and  a  calm  content,  did  cohabit  in  the  chearful  heart 
of  sir  Henry  Wotton,  because  I  know  that  when  he  was  beyond  seventy 
years  of  age,  he  made  this  description  of  a  part  of  the  present  pleasure  that 
possessed  him,  as  he  sat  quietly  in  a  summer's  evening  on  a  bank  a  fishing. 
It  is  a  description  of  the  spring;  which,  because  it  glided  as  soft  and  swet-tly 
from  his  pen,  as  that  river  does  at  this  time  by  which  it  was  then  made,  I 
shall  repeat  it  to  you. 

"  This  day  dame  Nature  seemed  in  love,  Sec.  &c. 

"  These  were  the  thoughts  that  then  possessed  the  undisturbed  mind  of  sir 
Henry  Wotton."— Walton's  Compleat  Angler,  p.  32,  edit.  1772. 


without  dropping  some  choice  Greek  or  Latin  apophthegm  or 
sentence,  that  might  be  worthy  of  a  room  in  the  memory  of  a 
growing  scholar. 

He  was  pleased  constantly  to  breed  up  one  or  more  hopeful 
youths,  which  he  picked  out  of  the  school,  and  took  into  his  own 
domestic  care,  and  to  attend  him  at  his  meals ;  out  of  whose 
discourse  and  behaviour,  he  gathered  observations  for  the  better 
completing  of  his  intended  work  of  education :  of  which,  by  his 
still  striving  to  make  the  whole  better,  he  lived  to  leave  but  part 
to  posterity. 

He  was  a  great  enemy  to  wrangling  disputes  of  religion,  con- 
cerning which  I  shall  say  a  little,  both  to  testify  that,  and  to  shew 
the  readiness  of  his  wit. 

Having  at  his  being  in  Eome  made  acquaintance  with  a  plea- 
sant priest,  who  invited  him  one  evening  to  hear  their  vesper 
music  at  church,  the  priest  seeing  sir  Henry  stand  obscurely  in  a 
corner,  sends  to  him  by  a  boy  of  the  quire  this  question,  writ  in  a 
small  piece  of  paper,  "  Where  was  your  religion  to  be  found 
before  Luther  V  To  which  question  sir  Henry  presently  under- 
writ,  "  My  religion  was  to  be  found  then,  where  your's  is  not  to 
be  found  now,  in  the  written  word  of  God." 

The  next  vesper,  sir  Henry  went  purposely  to  the  same  church, 
and  sent  one  of  the  quire  boys  with  this  question  to  his  honest 
pleasant  friend,  the  priest ;  "  Do  you  believe  all  those  many  thou- 
sands of  poor  Christians  were  damned  that  were  excommunicated, 
because  the  pope,  and  the  duke  of  Venice,  could  not  agree  about 
their  temporal  power,  even  those  poor  Christians  that  knew  not 
why  they  quarrelled?  Speak  your  conscience."  To  which  he 
under- writ  in  French,  "  Monsieur,  excusez  moi." 

To  one  that  asked  him,  "  Whether  a  papist  may  be  saved?" 
he  replied,  "  You  may  be  saved  without  knowing  that.  Look  to 

To  another,  whose  earnestness  exceeded  his  knowledge,  and 
was  still  railing  against  the  Papists,  he  gave  this  advice,  "  Pray 
sir,  forbear  till  you  have  studied  the  points  better ;  for  the  wise 
Italians  have  this  proverb 3 ;  He  that  understands  amiss,  concludes 
worse :  and  take  heed  of  thinking,  The  farther  you  go  from  the 
church  of  Rome,  the  nearer  you  are  to  God 4." 

3  This  proverb .]  "Chi  mal  intende  peggio  decide." 

4  The  nearer  you  are  to  God.~\    So  Bishop  Horsley.     "  Take  especial  care, 
before  you  aim  your  shafts  at  Calvinism,  that  you  know  what  is  Calvinism 

H    2 


And  to  another  that  spake  indiscreet  and  bitter  words  against 
Arminius,  I  heard  him  reply  to  this  purpose : 

"  In  my  travel  towards  Venice,  as  I  past  through  Germany,  I 
rested  almost  a  year  at  Leyden,  where  I  entered  into  an  acquaint- 
ance with  Arminius  (then  the  professor  of  divinity  in  that  univer- 
sity) a  man  much  talked  of  in  this  age,  which  is  made  up  of 
opposition  and  controversy :  and  indeed,  if  I  mistake  not  Armi- 
nius in  his  expressions  (as  so  weak  a  brain  as  mine  is  may  easily 
do)  then  I  know  I  differ  from  him  in  some  points ;  yet  I  profess 
my  judgment  of  him  to  be,  that  he  was  a  man  of  most  rare  learn- 
ing, and  I  knew  him  to  be  of  a  most  strict  life,  and  of  a  most 
meek  spirit.  And  that  he  was  so  mild,  appears  by  his  proposals 
to  our  master  Perkins 5  of  Cambridge,  from  whose  book,  of  the 
Order  and  Causes  of  Salvation  (which  was  first  writ  in  Latin) 
Arminius  took  the  occasion  of  writing  some  queries  to  him  con- 
cerning the  consequents  of  his  doctrine ;  intending  them  (it  is 
said)  to  come  privately  to  Mr.  Perkins"*  own  hands,  and  to  receive 
from  him  a  like  private  and  a  like  loving  answer :  but  Mr.  Per- 
kins died  before  those  queries  came  to  him ;  and  it  is  thought 
Arminius  meant  them  to  die  with  him  ;  for  though  he  lived  long 
after,  I  have  heard  he  forbore  to  publish  them  (but  since  his 
death,  his  sons  did  not).  And  it  is  pity,  if  God  had  been  so 
pleased,  that  Mr.  Perkins  did  not  live  to  see,  consider,  and  answer 
those  proposals  himself ;  for  he  was  also  of  a  most  meek  spirit, 
and  of  great  and  sanctified  learning.  And  though  since  their 
deaths,  many  of  high  parts  and  piety  have  undertaken  to  clear 
the  controversy,  yet,  for  the  most  part,  they  have  rather  satisfied 
themselves,  than  convinced  the  dissenting  party.  And  doubtless, 
many  middle- witted  men,  (which  yet  may  mean  well)  many  scholars 
that  are  not  in  the  highest  form  for  learning,  (which  yet  may 
preach  well)  men  that  are  but  preachers,  and  shall  never  know, 
till  they  come  to  heaven,  where  the  questions  stick  betwixt  Ar- 
minius and  the  church  of  England,  (if  there  be  any)  will  yet  in 

and  what  is  not :  that  in  that  mass  of  doctrine,  which  it  is  of  late  become  the 
fashion  to  abuse  under  the  name  of  Calvinism,  you  can  distinguish  with  cer- 
tainty between  that  part  of  it  which  is  nothing  better  than  Calvinism,  and 
that  which  belongs  to  our  common  Christianity  and  the  general  faith  of  the 
reformed  churches,  lest  when  you  mean  only  to  fall  foul  of  Calvinism,  you 
should  unwarily  attack  something  more  sacred  and  of  higher  origin." — Charge 
at  St.  Asaph,  1806,  p.  26. 

5  Master  Perkins.]  William  Perkins. 


this  world  be  tampering  with,  and  thereby  perplexing  the  con- 
troversy, and  do  therefore  justly  fall  under  the  reproof6  of  St. 
Jude,  for  being  busy-bodies,  and  for  meddling  with  things  they 

And  here  it  offers  itself  (I  think  not  unfitly)  to  tell  the  reader, 
that  a  friend  of  sir  Henry  Wotton's,  being  designed  for  the  em- 
ployment of  an  ambassador,  came  to  Eton,  and  requested  from 
him  some  experimental  rules  for  his  prudent  and  safe  carriage  in 
his  negociations ;  to  whom  he  smilingly  gave  this  for  an  infallible 
aphorism ;  "  That,  to  be  in  safety  himself,  and  serviceable  to  his 
country,  he  should  always,  and  upon  all  occasions  speak  the 
truth  (it  seems  a  state-paradox)  for,  says  sir  Henry  Wotton, 
you  shall  never  be  believed ;  and  by  this  means,  your  truth  will 
secure  yourself,  if  you  shall  ever  be  called  to  any  account ;  and  it 
will  also  put  your  adversaries  (who  will  still  hunt  counter)  to  a 
loss  in  all  their  disquisitions  and  undertakings." 

Many  more  of  this  nature  might  be  observed,  but  they  must 
be  laid  aside ;  for  I  shall  here  make  a  little  stop,  and  invite  the 

6  Fall  under  the  reproof.']  There  were  not  wanting  occasionally  a  few  other 
learned  men,  who,  in  these  turbulent  times,  had  wisdom  enough  to  discourage 
the  promiscuous  agitation  of  these  thorny  and  perplexed  controversies. 
Among  others  who  might  be  cited,  we  shall  be  contented  to  refer  to  the 
example  of  Dr.  Richard  Field,  author  of  the  Five  Books  of  the  Church,  who  is 
said  to  have  been  the  intimate  friend  of  Richard  Hooker ;  and  whose  writings 
display  no  small  portion  of  the  meekness  of  spirit,  the  depth  of  thought,  and 
the  learning  of  that  admirable  man. 

"He  did  not  like"  (as  his  son  informs  us)  "so  much  disputing  about 
those  high  points  of  predestination  and  reprobation,  which  have  so  much 
troubled  the  church  of  late  years,  and  in  ancient  times  ;  about  which  the 
Dominicans  and  the  Jesuites,  the  Lutherans  and  the  Calvinists,  are  so  much 
divided.  He  did  not  like  that  men  should  be  so  busy  in  determining  what 
God  decrees  in  heaven,  whose  counsels  are  unsearchable,  and  whose  ways  are 
past  finding  out. 

"  Being  at  Oxford  at  the  act,  when  doctor  Abbot,  who  was  then  regius 
professor,  and  doctor  of  the  chair,  first  began  to  read  upon  those  points  which 
are  commonly  called  the  Arminian  points  ;  after  he  had  heard  him,  being 
returned  unto  his  lodging,  he  was  very  much  offended  at  it,  and  said  unto 
doctor  Bostock,  who  was  then  present  with  him,  You  are  a  young  man,  and 
may  live  to  see  great  troubles  in  the  church  of  England,  occasioned  by  these  dis- 
putes. Oxford  hath  hitherto  been  free  from  these  disputes,  though  Cambridge 
hath  been  much  disquieted  with  them.  They  are  disputes  which  have  troubled 
the  peace  of  the  church  above  nine  hundred  years  already,  and  will  not  now  be 
ended.  In  points  of  such  extreme  difficulty  he  did  not  think  fit  to  be  too 
positive  in  defining  any  thing ;  to  turn  matters  of  opinion  into  matters  of 
faith."  Short  Memorials  concerning  the  Life  of  Doctor  Richard  Field,  written 
by  his  Son,  p.  21.  Compare  Barwick's  Life  of  Bishop  Morton,  p.  153. 


reader  to  look  back  with  me,  whilst,  according  to  my  promise,  I 
shall  say  a  little  of  sir  Albertus  Morton,  and  Mr.  William  Bedel, 
whom  I  formerly  mentioned. 

I  have  told  you  that  are  my  reader,  that  at  sir  Henry  Wotton's 
first  going  ambassador  into  Italy,  his  cousin,  sir  Albert  Morton, 
went  his  secretary :  and  am  next  to  tell  you,  that  sir  Albertus 
died  secretary  of  state  to  our  late  king ;  but  cannot,  am  not  able 
to  express  the  sorrow  that  possest  sir  Henry  Wotton  at  his  first 
hearing  the  news  that  sir  Albertus  was  by  death  lost  to  him  and 
this  world ;  and  yet,  the  reader  may  partly  guess  by  these  follow- 
ing expressions ;  the  first  in  a  letter  to  his  Nicholas  Pey,  of  which 
this  that  folio weth  is  a  part. 

" And  my  dear  Nick,  when  I  had  been  here  almost  a  fort- 
night, in  the  midst  of  my  great  contentment,  I  received  notice  of 
sir  Albertus  Morton's  departure  out  of  this  world,  who  was 
dearer  to  me,  than  mine  own  being  in  it.  What  a  wound  it  is 
to  my  heart,  you  that  knew  him,  and  know  me,  will  easily  believe : 
but,  our  Creator's  will  must  be  done,  and  unrepiningly  received 
by  his  own  creatures,  who  is  the  Lord  of  all  nature,  and  of  all 
fortune,  when  he  taketh  to  himself  now  one,  and  then  another, 
till  that  expected  day,  wherein  it  shah1  please  him  to  dissolve  the 
whole,  and  wrap  up  even  the  heaven  itself  as  a  scroll  of  parch- 
ment. This  is  the  last  philosophy  that  we  must  study  upon 
earth ;  let  us  therefore  that  yet  remain  here,  as  our  days  and 
friends  waste,  reinforce  our  love  to  each  other ;  which  of  all  vir- 
tues, both  spiritual  and  moral,  hath  the  highest  privilege,  because 
death  itself  cannot  end  it.  And  my  good  Nick,"  &c. 

This  is  a  part  of  his  sorrow  thus  exprest  to  his  Nick  Pey ;  the 
other  part  is  in  this  following  elegy,  of  which  the  reader  may 
safely  conclude,  it  was  too  hearty  to  be  dissembled. 


Silence  in  truth  would  speak  my  sorrow  best, 

For  deepest  wounds  can  least  their  feeling  tell ; 
Yet  let  me  borrow  from  mine  own  unrest, 

A  time  to  bid  him  whom  I  lov'd  farewell. 

Oh,  my  unhappy  lines  !  you  that  before 

Have  serv'd  my  youth  to  vent  some  wanton  cries, 

And  now  congeal'd  with  grief,  can  scarce  implore 
Strength  to  accent,  HERE  MY  ALBERTUS  LIES. 


This  is  that  sable  stone,  this  is  the  cave 

And  womb  of  earth,  that  doth  his  corpse  embrace  ; 

While  others  sing  his  praise,  let  me  engrave 
These  bleeding  numbers  to  adorn  the  place. 

Here  will  I  paint  the  characters  of  woe ; 

Here  will  I  pay  my  tribute  to  the  dead ; 
And  here  my  faithful  tears  in  showers  shall  flow 

To  humanize  the  flints  on  which  I  tread. 

Where  though  I  mourn  my  matchless  loss  alone, 
And  none  between  my  weakness  judge  and  me ; 

Yet  even  these  pensive  walls  allow  my  moan, 
Whose  doleful  echoes  to  my  plaints  agree. 

But  is  he  gone !  and  live  I  rhyming  here, 

As  if  some  muse  would  listen  to  my  lay  ? 
When  all  distun'd  sit  waiting  for  their  dear, 

And  bathe  the  banks  where  he  was  wont  to  play. 

Dwell  then  in  endless  bliss  with  happy  souls, 
Discharged  from  nature's  and  from  fortune's  trust, 

Whilst  on  this  fluid  globe  my  hour-glass  rolls, 
And  runs  the  rest  of  my  remaining  dust. 

H.  W. 

This  concerning  his  sir  Albertus  Morton. 

And  for  what  I  shall  say  concerning  Mr.  William  Bedel  I  must 
prepare  the  reader  by  telling  him,  that  when  king  James  sent  sir 
Henry  Wotton  ambassador  to  the  state  of  Venice,  he  sent  also 
an  ambassador  to  the  king  of  France 7,  and  another  to  the  king  of 
Spain 8 ;  with  the  ambassador  of  France  went  Joseph  Hall  (late 
bishop  of  Norwich)  whose  many  and  useful  works  speak  his  great 
merit :  with  the  ambassador  of  Spain  went  James  Wadsworth ; 
and  with  sir  Henry  Wotton  went  William  Bedel. 

These  three  chaplains  to  these  three  ambassadors,  were  all  bred 
in  one  university,  all  of  one f  college,  all  beneficed  in  one  diocese, 
and  all  most  dear  and  entire  friends :  but  in  Spain  Mr.  Wads- 
worth  met  with  temptations9,  or  reasons,  such  as  were  so  power  - 

7  To  the  king  of  France.]  Sir  Thomas  Parry. 

8  To  the  king  of  Spain.]  Sir  Charles  Cornwallis. 
1  Emmanuel  College,  in  Cambridge. 

9  Met  with  temptations.]  We  have  the  following  account  written  by  his  son. 
"  At  his  first  arrival "  (in  Spain)  "  the  Jesuits  held  with  him  a  subtle  dispute 
about  the  antiquity  and  the  universality  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  they 
make  their  preface  to  all  seducements;   his  grand  opposers  being  Joseph 


ful,  as  to  persuade  him  (who  of  the  three,  was  formerly  observed 
to  be  the  most  averse  to  that  religion  that  calls  itself  Catholic) 
to  disclaim  himself  a  member  of  the  church  of  England,  and  de- 
clare himself  for  the  church  of  Rome ;  discharging  himself  of  his 
attendance  on  the  ambassador,  and  betaking  himself  to  a  monas- 
terial  life ;  in  which  he  lived  very  regularly,  and  so  died. 

When  Dr.  Hall  (the  late  bishop  of  Norwich)  came  into  Eng- 
land, he  wrote  to  Mr.  Wadsworth  (it  is  the  first  epistle  in  his 
printed  decads)  to  persuade  his  return,  or  to  shew  the  reason  of 
his  apostacy.  The  letter  seemed  to  have  in  it  many  sweet  ex- 
pressions of  love ;  and  yet  there  was  in  it  some  expression  that 
was  so  unpleasant  to  Mr.  Wadsworth,  that  he  chose  rather  to 
acquaint  his  old  friend  Mr.  Bedel  with  his  motives ;  by  which 
means  there  past  betwixt  Mr.  Bedel  and  Mr.  Wadsworth  divers 
letters,  which  be  extant  in  print  *,  and  did  well  deserve  it ;  for  in 
them  there  seems  to  be  a  controversy,  not  of  religion  only,  but 
who  should  answer  each  other  with  most  love  and  meekness: 
which  I  mention  the  rather,  because  it  too  seldom  falls  out  to  be 
so  in  a  book-war. 

Cresswell  and  Henry  Walpole,  two  the  most  expert  politicians  of  our  nation, 
that  then  maintained  the  state  of  the  triple  crown;  whose  understanding 
nevertheless  would  not  prove  captive  either  to  the  subtilest  arguments,  or 
most  alluring  promises.  The  embassador  seeing  how  wisely  he  quitted  him- 
self, sent  letters  to  his  majesty  informing  him  how  learnedly  he  was  accom- 
panied,— Meanwhile  the  Jesuits  perceiving  how  little  they  prevailed,  used 
other  illusions  stronger  than  their  arguments,  even  strange  apparitions  of 
miracles  :  amongst  others,  the  miracle  which  they  pretend  to  be  true  to  have 
happened  to  the  eldest  son  of  the  lord  Wotton  at  his  death,  in  the  city  Valla- 
dolid,  where  a  crucifix  framed  him  this  articulate  sound,  Now  forsake  your 
heresy,  or  else  you  are  damned;  whereupon  the  young  lord  and  my  father 
became  proselytes  to  their  juggling  religion,  the  report  whereof  not  long  after 
became  a  load-stone  also  to  the  old  lord  Wotton  his  father,  with  many  others, 
to  draw  them  to  popish  idolatry.  And  so  my  father,  leaving  the  embassador's 
house  privately,  and  discarding  his  wife  and  children,  and  fortunes  in  Eng- 
land, was  conducted  forthwith  by  the  means  of  father  Cresswell  to  the 
university  of  Salamanca,  whereat  the  next  day  after  his  arrival,  he  was  car- 
ried to  the  bishop's,  then  inquisitor's,  house,  where  he  was  admitted  with  no 
little  joy  to  their  church ;  where  he  prostrating  himself  on  the  ground,  and 
the  inquisitor  putting,  as  their  custom  is,  his  right  foot  on  his  head,  said 
with  a  loud  voice,  Here  I  crush  the  head  of  heresy  ;  the  which  ceremony  and 
others  ended,  after  a  month's  abode  in  the  said  university,  he  passed  with 
Cresswell  to  the  court  of  Madrid."  English  Spanish  Pilgrim,  p.  2,  3. 

1  Extant  in  print.]  They  were  printed  by  (bishop)  Burnet,  at  the  close  of 
his  Life  of  Bishop  Bedel,  in  the  year  1685. 


There  is  yet  a  little  more  to  be  said  of  Mr.  Bedel,  for  the 
greatest  part  of  which  the  reader  is  referred  to  this  following 
letter  of  sir  Henry  Wotton's,  writ  to  our  late  king  Charles  the 

"  May  it  please  your  most  gracious  majesty, 

"  Having  been  informed  that  persons  have,  by  the  good  wishes 
of  the  archbishop  of  Armagh,  been  directed  hither,  with  a  most 
humble  petition  unto  your  majesty,  that  you  will  be  pleased  to 
make  Mr.  William  Bedel  (now  resident  upon  a  small  benefice  in 
Suffolk)  governor  of  your  college  at  Dublin,  for  the  good  of  that 
society ;  and  myself  being  required  to  render  unto  your  majesty 
some  testimony  of  the  said  William  Bedel,  who  was  long  my 
chaplain  at  Venice,  in  the  time  of  my  first  employment  there ;  I 
am  bound  in  all  conscience  and  truth  (so  far  as  your  majesty  will 
vouchsafe  to  accept  my  poor  judgment)  to  affirm  of  him,  that  I 
think  hardly  a  fitter  man  for  that  charge  could  have  been  pro- 
pounded unto  your  majesty  in  your  whole  kingdom,  for  singular 
erudition  and  piety,  conformity  to  the  rites  of  the  church,  and 
zeal  to  advance  the  cause  of  God,  wherein  his  travels  abroad 
were  not  obscure,  in  the  time  of  the  excommunication  of  the 

For  it  may  please  your  majesty  to  know,  that  this  is  the 
man  whom  Padre  Paulo  took,  I  may  say,  into  his  very  soul,  with 
whom  he  did  communicate  the  inwardest  thoughts  of  his  heart, 
from  whom  he  professed  to  have  received  more  knowledge  in  all 
divinity,  both  scholastical  and  positive,  than  from  any  that  he  had 
ever  practised  in  his  days ;  of  which  all  the  passages  were  well 
known  to  the  king  your  father,  of  most  blessed  memory.  And 
so  with  your  majesty's  good  favour,  I  will  end  this  needless  office : 
for  the  general  fame  of  his  learning,  his  life,  and  Christian  tem- 
per, and  those  religious  labours  which  himself  hath  dedicated  to 
your  majesty,  do  better  describe  him  than  I  am  able. 

"  Your  majesty's 
"  Most  humble  and  faithful  servant, 

"  H.  WOTTON." 

To  this  letter  I  shall  add  this ;  that  he  was  (to  the  great  joy  of 
sir  Henry  Wotton)  made  governor  of  the  said  college ;  and  that 
g  after  a  fair  discharge  of  his  duty  and  trust  there,  he  was  thence 

s  August,  1627. 


removed  to  be  bishop  of  Kilmore  h.  In  both  which  places  his  life 
was  so  holy  as  seemed  to  equal  the  primitive  Christians  ;  for  as 
they,  so  he  kept  all  the  ember-weeks,  observed  (beside  his  private 
devotions)  the  canonical  hours  of  prayer  very  strictly,  and  so  he 
did  all  the  feasts  and  fast-days  of  his  mother,  the  church  of  Eng- 
land ;  to  which  I  may  add,  that  his  patience  and  charity  were 
both  such  as  shewed  his  affections  were  set  upon  things  that  are 
above ;  for  indeed  his  whole  life  brought  forth  the  fruits  of  the 
spirit,  there  being  in  him  such  a  remarkable  meekness,  that  as 
St.  Paul  advised  his  Timothy  in  the  election  of  a  bishop  (1  Tim. 
iii.  7.)  That  he  have  a  good  report  of  those  that  be  without ;  so  had 
he ;  for  those  that  were  without,  even  those  that  in  point  of  reli- 
gion were  of  the  Romish  persuasion,  (of  which  there  were  very 
many  in  his  diocese)  did  yet  (such  is  the  power  of  visible  piety) 
ever  look  upon  him  with  respect  and  reverence ;  and  testified  it 
by  concealing  and  safe  protecting  him  from  death  in  the  late  hor- 
rid rebellion  in  Ireland,  when  the  fury  of  the  wild  Irish  knew  no 
distinction  of  persons ;  and  yet  there  and  then  he  was  protected 
and  cherished  by  those  of  a  contrary  persuasion ;  and  there  and 
then  he  died,  not  by  violence  or  misusage,  but  by  grief,  in  a  quiet 
prison  (1629).  And  with  him  was  lost  many  of  his  learned  wri- 
tings, which  were  thought  worthy  of  preservation ;  and  amongst 
the  rest  was  lost  the  Bible,  which  by  many  years  labour,  and  con- 
ference, and  study,  he  had  translated  into  the  Irish  tongue,  with 
an  intent  to  have  printed  it  for  public  use. 

More  might  be  said 2  of  Mr.  Bedel,  who  (I  told  the  reader) 
was  sir  Henry  Wotton's  first  chaplain ;  and  much  of  his  second 
chaplain,  Isaac  Bargrave 3,  doctor  in  divinity,  and  the  late  learned 
and  hospitable  dean  of  Canterbury ;  as  also  of  the  merit  of  many 
others,  that  had  the  happiness  to  attend  sir  Henry  in  his  foreign 
employments :  but  the  reader  may  think  that  in  this  digression  I 
have  already  carried  him  too  far  from  Eton  college,  and  tln-iv- 
fore  I  shall  lead  him  back  as  gently  and  as  orderly  as  I  may  to  that 
place,  for  a  further  conference  concerning  sir  Henry  Wotton. 

Sir  Henry  Wotton  had  proposed  to  himself,  before  he  entered 
into  his  collegiate  life,  to  write  the  Life  of  Martin  Luther;  and 

*  Sept.  3,  1629. 

2  More  might  be  said.']  See  Life  of  William  Bedel,  D.D.  bishop  of  Kilmore, 
in  Ireland,  AD.  1685,  written  by  bishop  Burnet. 

»  Isaac  BargraveJ]  Of  whom  there  is  a  life  in  Todd's  Account  of  the  Deans 
of  Canterbury. 


in  it,  the  History  of  the  Reformation,  as  it  was  carried  on  in 
Germany :  for  the  doing  of  which  he  had  many  advantages  by 
his  several  embassies  into  those  parts,  and  his  interest  in  the 
several  princes  of  the  empire,  by  whose  means  he  had  access  to 
the  records  of  all  the  Hans  Towns,  and  the  knowledge  of  many 
secret  passages  that  fell  not  under  common  view ;  and  in  these 
he  had  made  a  happy  progress,  as  was  well  known  to  his  worthy 
friend  doctor  Duppa,  the  late  reverend  bishop  of  Salisbury ;  but 
in  the  midst  of  this  design,  his  late  majesty  king  Charles  the  first, 
that  knew  the  value  of  sir  Henry  Wotton's  pen,  did  by  a  persua- 
sive loving  violence  (to  which  may  be  added  a  promise  of  5001.  a 
year)  force  him  to  lay  Luther  aside,  and  betake  himself  to  write 
the  History  of  England,  in  which  he  proceeded  to  write  some 
short  characters  of  a  few  kings,  as  a  foundation  upon  which  he 
meant  to  build ;  but,  for  the  present,  meant  to  be  more  large  in 
the  story  of  Henry  the  sixth,  the  founder  of  that  college  in  which 
he  then  enjoyed  all  the  worldly  happiness  of  his  present  being ; 
but  sir  Henry  died  in  the  midst  of  this  undertaking,  and  the 
footsteps  of  his  labours  are  not  recoverable  by  a  more  than  com- 
mon diligence. 

This  is  some  account  both  of  his  inclination,  and  the  employ- 
ment of  his  time  in  the  college,  where  he  seemed  to  have  his 
youth  renewed  by  a  continual  conversation  with  that  learned 
society,  and  a  daily  recourse  of  other  friends  of  choicest  breeding 
and  parts ;  by  which  that  great  blessing  of  a  cheerful  heart  was 
still  maintained,  he  being  always  free,  even  to  the  last  of  his  days, 
from  that  peevishness  which  usually  attends  age. 

And  yet  his  mirth  was  sometimes  damped  by  the  remembrance 
of  divers  old  debts,  partly  contracted  in  his  foreign  employments, 
for  which  his  just  arrears  due  from  the  king  would  have  made 
satisfaction;  but  being  still  delayed  with  court  promises,  and 
finding  some  decays  of  health,  he  did  about  two  years  before  his 
death,  out  of  a  Christian  desire  that  none  should  be  a  loser  by 
him,  make  his  last  will ;  concerning  which  a  doubt  still  remains, 
namely,  whether  it  discovered  more  holy  wit  or  conscionable 
policy  ?  But  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  his  chief  design  was  a 
Christian  endeavour  that  his  debts  might  be  satisfied. 

And  that  it  may  remain  as  such  a  testimony  and  a  legacy  to 
those  that  loved  him,  I  shall  here  impart  it  to  the  reader,  as  it 
was  found  writ  with  his  own  hand. 

"  In   the   name  of  God  almighty  and  all-merciful,  I  Henry 


Wotton,  provost  of  his  majesty's  college  by  Eton,  being  mindful 
of  mine  own  mortality,  which  the  sin  of  our  first  parents  did 
bring  upon  all  flesh,  do,  by  this  last  will  and  testament  thus  dis- 
pose of  myself  and  the  poor  things  I  shall  leave  in  this  world. 
My  soul  I  bequeath  to  the  immortal  God  my  maker,  father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  my  blessed  redeemer  and  mediator,  through 
his  all-sole  sufficient  satisfaction  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world, 
and  efficient  for  his  elect,  in  the  number  of  whom  I  am  one  by 
his  mere  grace,  and  thereof  most  unremoveably  assured  by  his 
holy  Spirit,  the  true  eternal  comforter.  My  body  I  bequeath  to 
the  earth,  if  I  shall  end  my  transitory  days  at  or  near  Eton,  to 
be  buried  in  the  chapel  of  the  said  college,  as  the  fellows  shall 
dispose  thereof,  with  whom  I  have  lived  (my  God  knows)  in  all 
loving  affection ;  or  if  I  shall  die  near  Bocton  Malherb,  in  the 
county  of  Kent,  then  I  wish  to  be  laid  in  that  parish  church,  as 
near  as  may  be  to  the  sepulchre  of  my  good  father,  expecting  a 
joyful  resurrection  with  him  in  the  day  of  Christ."" 

After  this  account  of  his  faith,  and  this  surrender  of  his  soul 
to  that  God  that  inspired  it,  and  this  direction  for  the  disposal  of 
his  body,  he  proceeded  to  appoint  that  his  executors  should  lay 
over  his  grave  a  marble  stone,  plain,  and  not  costly :  and  consi- 
dering that  time  moulders  even  marble  to  dust,  (for  monuments i 
themselves  must  die)  therefore  did  he  (waving  the  common  way) 
think  fit  rather  to  preserve  his  name  (to  which  the  son  of  Sirac 
adviseth  all  men)  by  a  useful  apophthegm,  than  by  a  large  enume- 
ration of  his  descent  or  merits  (of  both  which  he  might  justly 
have  boasted)  but  he  was  content  to  forget  them,  and  did  choose 
only  this  prudent,  pious  sentence,  to  discover  his  disposition  and 
preserve  his  memory. 

It  was  directed  by  him  to  be  thus  inscribed  : 

Hie  jacet  hujus  sententiae  primus  author, 


Nomen  alias  quaere. 
Which  may  be  Englished  thus  : 

Here  lies  the  first  author  of  this  sentence, 


Inquire  his  name  elsewhere. 

1  "  Quandoquidem  data  sunt  ipsis  quoque  fata  sepulchris." — Juv.  x.  145. 
4  Disputandi  pruritus.]  In  a  Panegyric  addressed  to  king  Charles  I.  on  his 


And  if  any  shall  object,  as  I  think  some  have,  that  sir 
Henry  Wotton  was  not  the  first  author  of  this  sentence ;  but 
that  this,  or  a  sentence  like  it,  was  long  before  his  time ;  to  him 
I  answer,  that  Solomon  says,  Nothing  can  be  spoken,  that  hath  not 
been  spofcen ;  for  there  is  no  new  thing  under  the  sun.  But  grant, 
that  in  his  various  reading,  he  had  met  with  this,  or  a  like  sen- 
tence ;  yet  reason  mixt  with  charity  should  persuade  all  readers 
to  believe,  that  sir  Henry  Wotton's  mind  was  then  so  fixed  on 
that  part  of  the  communion  of  saints  which  is  above,  that  an  holy 
lethargy  did  surprise  his  memory.  For  doubtless,  if  he  had  not 
believed  himself  to  be  the  first  author  of  what  he  said,  he  was  too 
prudent  first  to  own,  and  then  expose  it  to  the  public  view,  and 
censure  of  every  critic.  And  questionless,  it  will  be  charity  in  all 
readers,  to  think  his  mind  was  then  so  fixed  on  heaven,  that  a 
holy  zeal  did  transport  him  :  and  that  in  this  sacred  ecstasy,  his 
thoughts  were  then  only  of  the  church  triumphant  (into  which  he 
daily  expected  his  admission).  And  that  almighty  God  was  then 
pleased  to  make  him  a  prophet,  to  tell  the  church  militant,  and 
particularly  that  part  of  it  in  this  nation,  where  the  weeds  of  con- 
troversy grow  to  be  daily  both  more  numerous,  and  more  de- 
structive to  humble  piety  :  and  where  men  have  consciences  that 
boggle  at  ceremonies,  and  yet  scruple  not  to  speak  and  act  such 
sins  as  the  ancient  humble  Christians  believed  to  be  a  sin  to  think  : 
and  where,  as  our  reverend  Hooker  says,  "  Former  simplicity,  and 
softness  of  spirit,  is  not  now  to  be  found,  because,  zeal  hath 
drowned  charity,  and  skill  meekness :"  it  will  be  good  to  think 
that  these  sad  changes  have  proved  this  epitaph  to  be  a  useful 
caution  unto  us  of  this  nation ;  and  the  sad  effects  thereof  in 
Germany  have  proved  it  to  be  a  mournful  truth. 

return  from  Scotland,  A.D.  1633,  written  in  Latin,  and  translated  by  a  friend, 
sir  Henry  thus  expresses  himself: 

"  There  were  hatched  abroad  some  years  ago,  or  perhaps  raked  up  out  of 
antiquity,  certain  controversies  about  high  points  of  the  Creed,  which  having 
likewise  flown  over  to  us,  (as  flames  of  wit  are  easily  diffused)  least  hereabout 
also  both  pulpits  and  pews  might  run  to  heat  and  public  disturbance,  your 
majesty,  with  most  laudable  temper,  by  proclamation  suppressed  on  both 
sides  all  manner  of  debates.  Others  may  think  what  pleaseth  them  ;  in  my 
opinion  (if  I  may  have  pardon  for  the  phrase)  The  itch  of  disputing  will  prove 
the  scab  of  churches.  I  shall  relate  what  I  have  chanced  more  than  once  to 
observe  :  two,  namely,  arguing  about  some  subject  so  eagerly  till  either  of 
them,  transported  by  heat  of  contention,  from  one  thing  to  another,  they  both 
at  length  had  lost  first  their  charity,  and  then  also  the  truth."  Remains, 
p.  H7. 


This  by  way  of  observation  concerning  his  epitaph  :  the  rest  of 
his  will  follows  in  his  own  words. 

"  Further,  I  the  said  Henry  Wotton,  do  constitute  and  ordain 
to  be  joint  executors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  my  two 
grand-nephews,  Albert  Morton  second  son  to  sir  Robert  Morton 
knight,  late  deceased,  and  Thomas  Bargrave,  eldest  son  to  Dr. 
Bargrave,  dean  of  Canterbury,  husband  to  my  right  virtuous  and 
only  niece  '.  And  I  do  pray  the  aforesaid  Dr.  Bargrave,  and  Mr. 
Nicholas  Pey,  my  most  faithful  and  chosen  friends,  together  witli 
Mr.  John  Harrison  one  of  the  fellows  of  Eton  college,  best 
acquainted  with  my  books  and  pictures,  and  other  utensils,  to  be 
supervisors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament.  And  I  do  pray 
the  foresaid  Dr.  Bargrave  and  Mr.  Nicholas  Pey,  to  be  solicitors 
for  such  arrearages  as  shall  appear  due  unto  me  from  his  majesty's 
exchequer  at  the  time  of  my  death ;  and  to  assist  my  fore-named 
executors  in  some  reasonable  snd  conscientious  satisfaction  of  my 
creditors,  and  discharge  of  my  legacies  now  specified ;  or,  that 
shall  be  hereafter  added  unto  this  my  testament,  by  any  codicil 
or  schedule,  or  left  in  the  hands,  or  in  any  memorial  with  the 
aforesaid  Mr.  John  Harrison. — And  first,  to  my  most  dear  sove- 
reign and  master  of  incomparable  goodness  (in  whose  gracious 
opinion  I  have  ever  had  some  portion,  as  far  as  the  interest  of  a 
plain  and  honest  man)  I  leave  four  pictures  at  large  of  those  dukes 
of  Venice  *,  in  whose  time  I  was  there  employed,  with  their  names 
on  the  back-side,  which  hang  in  my  great  ordinary  dining-room, 
done  after  the  life  by  Edoardo  Fialetto.  Likewise  a  table 7  of  the 
Venetian  college,  where  ambassadors  had  their  audience,  hanuin^ 
over  the  mantle  of  the  chimney  in  the  said  room,  done  by  the 
same  hand,  which  containeth  a  draught  in  little,  well  resembling 
the  famous  duke  Leonardo  Donato,  in  a  time  which  needed  a 
wise  and  constant  man.  Item,  the  picture  of  a  duke  of  Venice 8 
hanging  over  against  the  door,  done  either  by  Titiano,  or  some 
principal  hand  long  before  my  time.  Most  humbly  beseeching 

5  Niece.']  Elizabeth  Dering,  daughter  of  John  Dering  of  Surrenden,  hy 
Elizabeth  Wotton,  sir  Henry's  only  sister. 

r>  Dukes  of  Venice.']  The  four  doges  of  whom  Wotton  speaks  were  Marino 
(irimani,  1595-1605;  Lionardo  Donato,  1605-1612;  Antonio  Memmo,  1612- 
1615;  Giovanni  Bembo,  1615-1618.  The  portraits  are  now  in  the  king's 
dressing-room  at  Hampton  Court  palace. 

7  A  table.']  This  picture,  on  panel,  is  now  in  the  second  presence  chamber 
at  Hampton  Court  palace. 

8  Duke  of  Venire.]  The  fate  of  this  picture  is  uncertain. 


his  majesty  that  the  said  pieces  may  remain  in  some  corner  of 
any  of  his  houses,  for  a  poor  memorial  of  his  most  humble 

"  Item,  I  leave  his  said  majesty  all  the  papers  and  negociations 
of  sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton  knight,  during  his  famous  employ- 
ment under  queen  Elizabeth,  in  Scotland  and  in  France,  which 
contain  divers  secrets  of  state,  that  perchance  his  majesty  will 
think  fit  to  be  preserved  in  his  paper-office,  after  they  have  been 
perused  and  sorted  by  Mr.  Secretary  Windebanck,  with  whom  I 
have  heretofore,  as  I  remember,  conferred  about  them.  They 
were  committed  to  my  disposal  by  sir  Arthur  Throgmorton 9  his 
son,  to  whose  worthy  memory  I  cannot  better  discharge  my  faith, 
than  by  assigning  them  to  the  highest  place  of  trust.  Item,  I 
leave  to  our  most  gracious  and  virtuous  queen  Mary  *,  Dioscorides, 
with  the  plants  naturally  coloured,  and  the  text  translated  by 
Matthiolo 2,  in  the  best  language  of  Tuscany,  whence  her  majesty 
is  lineally  descended 3,  for  a  poor  token  of  my  thankful  devotion, 
for  the  honour  she  was  once  pleased  to  do  my  private  study  with 
her  presence.  I  leave  to  the  most  hopeful  prince,  the  picture  of 
the  elected  and  crowned  queen  of  Bohemia,  his  aunt,  of  clear  and 
resplendent  virtues  through  the  clouds  of  her  fortune.  To  my 
lord's  grace  of  Canterbury 4  now  being,  I  leave  my  picture  of  Divine 
Love,  rarely  copied  from  one  in  the  king^s  galleries,  of  my  pre- 
sentation to  his  majesty ;  beseeching  him  to  receive  it  as  a  pledge 
of  my  humble  reverence  to  his  great  wisdom.  And  to  the  most 
worthy  lord  bishop  of  London 5,  lord  high  treasurer  of  England, 
in  true  admiration  of  his  Christian  simplicity,  and  contempt  of 
earthly  pomp,  I  leave  a  picture  of  Heraclitus  bewailing,  and  De- 
mocritus  laughing  at  the  world  :  most  humbly  beseeching  the  said 
lord  archbishop  his  grace,  and  the  lord  bishop  of  London,  of  both 

9  Sir  Arthur  Throgmorton.']  Whose  eldest  daughter  and  coheir,  Mary,  was 
married  to  sir  Henry  Wotton's  nephew,  Thomas,  second  and  last  lord  Wotton. 

1  Queen  Mary.']  Henrietta  Maria. 

2  Matthiolo.']  Pietro  Matthiolo  of  Sienna,  physician  to  the  emperor  and  to 
the  archduke  Ferdinand,  who  wrote  Discorsi  nelli  sei  libri  di  Pedacio  Dios- 
coride  Anarzarbeo  delta  Materia  Medicinale.      Editions  with  very  beautiful 
wood  engravings  were  printed  at  Venice  in  folio,  in  1568,  1585,  1604.     It  was 
no  doubt  a  copy  of  one  of  these  that  Wotton  bequeathed,  but  it  is  not  in 
the  Royal  library  in  the  British  Museum. 

3  Descended^]  She  being  daughter  of  Marie  de'  Medici. 

4  My  lord's  grace  of  Canterbury .]  William  Laud. 

5  Bishop  of  London.]  William  Juxon,  afterwards  archbishop  of  Canterbury. 


whose  favours  I  have  tasted  in  my  lifetime,  to  intercede  with  our 
most  gracious  sovereign  after  my  death,  in  the  bowels  of  Jesus 
Christ,  that  out  of  compassionate  memory  of  my  long  services 
(wherein  I  more  studied  the  public  honour  than  mine  own  utility) 
some  order  may  be  taken  out  of  my  arrears  due  in  the  exchequer, 
for  such  satisfaction  of  my  creditors,  as  those  whom  I  have 
ordained  supervisors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament  shall  pre- 
sent unto  their  lordships,  without  their  farther  trouble :  hoping 
likewise  in  his  majesty's  most  indubitable  goodness,  that  he  will 
keep  me  from  all  prejudice,  which  I  may  otherwise  suffer  by  any 

defect  of  formality  in  the  demand  of  my  said  arrears.     To 

for  a  poor  addition  to  his  cabinet,  I  leave  as  emblems  of  his 
attractive  virtues,  and  nobleness,  my  great  loadstone ;  and  a 
piece  of  amber  of  both  kinds  naturally  united,  and  only  differing 
in  degree  of  concoction,  which  is  thought  somewhat  rare.  Item, 
a  piece  of  christal  sexangular  (as  they  grow  all)  grasping  divers 
several  things  within  it,  which  I  bought  among  the  Rhsetian 
Alps,  in  the  very  place  where  it  grew:  recommending  most 
humbly  unto  his  lordship,  the  reputation  of  my  poor  name  in 
the  point  of  my  debts,  as  I  have  done  to  the  forenamed  spiritual 
lords ;  and  am  heartily  sorry,  that  I  have  no  better  token  of  my 
humble  thankfulness  to  his  honoured  person.  Item,  I  leave  to 
sir  Francis  Windebanck,  one  of  his  majesties  principal  secretaries 
of  state  (whom  I  found  my  great  friend  in  point  of  necessity)  the 
Four  Seasons  of  old  Bassano,  to  hang  near  the  eye  in  his  parlour 
(being  in  little  form)  which  I  bought  at  Venice,  where  I  first 
entered  into  his  most  worthy  acquaintance. 

"  To  the  above-named  Dr.  Bargrave e  dean  of  Canterbury.  I 
leave  all  my  Italian  books  not  disposed  in  this  will.  I  leave  to 
him  likewise  my  viol  de  gamba,  which  hath  been  twice  with  me  in 
Italy,  in  which  country  I  first  contracted  with  him  an  unremove- 
able  affection.  To  my  other  supervisor,  Mr.  Nicholas  Pey,  I 
leave  my  chest,  or  cabinet  of  instruments  and  engines  of  all  kinds 
of  uses :  ink  the  lower  box  whereof  are  some  fit  to  be  bequeathed 
to  none  but  so  entire  an  honest  man  as  he  is.  I  leave  him  likc- 

'  Dr.  BargraveJ]  A  picture  of  sir  Henry  Wotton,  and  some  other  por- 
traits, believed  to  have  been  in  his  collection,  are  now  in  the  possession  of 
Thomas  Bridger,  Esq.,  of  Eastry  Court,  whose  lady  is  a  lineal  descendant  of 
Dr.  Bargrave. 

k  In  it  were  Italian  locks,  picklocks,  screws  to  force  open  doors,  and  many 
things  of  worth  and  rarity  that  he  had  gathered  in  his  foreign  travel. 


wise  forty  pound  for  his  pains  in  the  solicitation  of  my  arrears, 
and  am  sorry  that  my  ragged  estate  can  reach  no  further  to  one 
that  hath  taken  such  care  for  me  in  the  same  kind,  during  all 
my  foreign  employments.  To  the  library  at  Eton  college  I  leave 
all  my  manuscripts  not  before  disposed ;  and  to  each  of  the  fellows 
a  plain  ring  of  gold,  enamelled  black,  all  save  the  verge,  with  this 
motto  within,  Amor  unit  omnia. 

"  This  is  my  last  will  and  testament,  save  what  shall  be  added 
by  a  schedule  thereunto  annexed.  Written  on  the  first  of 
October,  in  the  present  year  of  our  redemption  1637.  And  sub- 
scribed by  myself,  with  the  testimony  of  these  witnesses. 

"  Nich.  Oudert. 
Geo.  Lash." 

And  now,  because  the  mind  of  man  is  best  satisfied  by  the 
knowledge  of  events,  I  think  fit  to  declare,  that  every  one  that 
was  named  in  his  will,  did  gladly  receive  their  legacies ;  by  which, 
and  his  most  just  and  passionate  desires  for  the  payment  of  his 
debts,  they  joined  in  assisting  the  overseers  of  his  will ;  and  by 
their  joint  endeavours  to  the  king  (than  whom  none  was  more 
willing)  conscionable  satisfaction  was  given  for  his  just  debts. 

The  next  thing  wherewith  I  shall  acquaint  the  reader  is,  that 
he  went  usually  once  a  year,  if  not  oftener,  to  the  beloved  Bocton- 
hall,  where  he  would  say,  he  found  a  cure  for  all  cares,  by  the 
chearful  company,  which  he  called  the  living  furniture  of  that 
place :  and,  a  restoration  of  his  strength,  by  the  connaturalness 
of  that  which  he  called  his  genial  air. 

He  yearly  went  also  to  Oxford.  But  the  summer  before  his 
death  he  changed  that  for  a  journey  to  Winchester-college ;  to 
which  school  he  was  first  removed  from  Bocton.  And  as  he 
returned  from  Winchester,  towards  Eton-college,  he  said  to  a 
friend,  his  companion  in  that  journey;  " How  useful  was  that 
advice  of  a  holy  monk,  who  persuaded  his  friend  to  perform  his 
customary  devotions  in  a  constant  place 7}  because  in  that  place, 
we  usually  meet  with  those  very  thoughts  which  possessed  us  at 
our  last  being  there  ;  and  I  find  it  thus  far  experimentally  true ; 
that  my  now  being  in  that  school,  and  seeing  that  very  place 

7  A  constant  place. ,]  See  South's  Sermons,  vol.  i.  "God's  peculiar  regard 
for  places  set  apart  for  Divine  worship ;"  or  Christian  Institutes,  vol.  iii.  p.  432. 
Also  Law's  Serious  Call,  &c.  chap.  14. 

VOL.  IV.  I 


where  I  sate  when  I  was  a  boy,  occasioned  me  to  remember 
those  very  thoughts  of  my  youth  which  then  possessed  me; 
sweet  thoughts  indeed,  that  promised  my  growing  years  numerous 
pleasures,  without  mixtures  of  cares ;  and  those  to  be  enjoyed, 
when  time  (which  I  therefore  thought  slow  paced)  had  changed 
my  youth  into  manhood :  but  age  and  experience  have  taught 
me,  that  those  were  but  empty  hopes :  for  I  have  always  found 
it  true,  as  my  Saviour  did  foretell,  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof.  Nevertheless,  I  saw  there  a  succession  of  boys  using  the 
same  recreations,  and  questionless  possessed  with  the  same 
thoughts  that  then  possessed  me.  Thus  one  generation  succeeds 
another,  both  in  their  lives,  recreations,  hopes,  fears,  and  death." 
After  his  return  from  Winchester  to  Eton  (which  was  about 
five  months  before  his  death)  he  became  much  more  retired,  and 
contemplative ;  in  which  time  he  was  often  visited  by  Mr.  John 
Hales,  (learned  Mr.  John  Hales)  then  a  fellow  of  that  college ; 

to  whom  upon  an  occasion  he  spake  to  this  purpose "  I  have 

in  my  passage  to  my  grave  met  with  most  of  those  joys  of  which  a 
discursive  soul  is  capable  ;  and  been  entertained  with  more  inferior 
pleasures  than  the  sons  of  men  are  usually  made  partakers  of: 
nevertheless,  in  this  voyage  I  have  not  always  floated  on  the  calm 
sea  of  content ;  but,  have  oft  met  with  cross  winds  and  storms, 
and  with  many  troubles  of  mind  and  temptations  to  evil.  And, 
yet  though  I  have  been  and  am  a  man  compassed  about  with  hu- 
man frailties,  almighty  God  hath  by  his  grace  prevented  me  from 
making  shipwreck  of  faith  and  a  good  conscience ;  the  thought  of 
which  is  now  the  joy  of  my  heart,  and  I  most  humbly  praise  him 
for  it :  and  I  humbly  acknowledge  that  it  was  not  myself  but  he 
that  hath  kept  me  to  this  great  age  ;  and  let  him  take  the  glory 
of  his  great  mercy. — And  my  dear  friend,  I  now  see  that  I  draw 
near  my  harbour  of  death :  that  harbour,  that  will  secure  me 
from  all  the  future  storms  and  waves  of  this  world  ;  and  I  praise 
God  I  am  willing  to  leave  it,  and  expect  a  better ;  that  world, 

wherein  dwelleth  righteousness,  and  I  long  for  it." These  and 

the  like  expressions  were  then  uttered  by  him  at  the  beginning  of 
a  feverish  distemper,  at  which  time  he  was  also  troubled  with  an 
asthma,  or  short  spitting ;  but  after  less  than  twenty  fits,  by  the 
help  of  familiar  physic  and  a  spare  diet,  this  fever  abated ;  yet  so 
as  to  leave  him  much  weaker  than  it  found  him  :  and  his  asthma 
seemed  also  to  be  overcome  in  a  good  degree  by  his  forbearing 
tobacco,  which  as  many  thoughtful  men  do.  In-  had  also  taken 


somewhat  immoderately. — This  was  his  then  present  condition, 
and  thus  he  continued  till  about  the  end  of  October  1639,  which 
was  about  a  month  before  his  death,  at  which  time  he  again 
fell  into  a  fever,  which  though  he  seemed  to  recover,  yet  these 
still  left  him  so  weak,  that  they  and  those  other  common  infirmi- 
ties that  accompany  age,  and  were  wont  to  visit  him  like  civil 
friends,  and  after  some  short  time  to  leave  him,  came  now,  both 
oftener  and  with  more  violence,  and  at  last  took  up  their  constant 
habitation  with  him,  still  weakening  his  body  and  abating  his 
chearfulness :  of  both  which  he  grew  more  sensible,  and  did  the 
oftener  retire  into  his  study,  and  there  made  many  papers  that 
had  passed  his  pen  both  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  and  in  the  busy 

part  of  his  life,  useless  by  a  fire  made  there  to  that  purpose. • 

These  and  several  unusual  expressions  to  his  servants  and  friends, 
seemed  to  foretell  that  the  day  of  his  death  drew  near ;  for  which 
he  seemed  to  those  many  friends  that  observed  him,  to  be  well 
prepared,  and  to  be  both  patient,  and  free  from  all  fear ;  as  seve- 
ral of  his  letters  writ  on  this  his  last  sick-bed  may  testify :  and 
thus  he  continued  till  about  the  beginning  of  December  following, 
at  which  time  he  was  seized  more  violently  with  a  quotidian  fever, 
in  the  tenth  fit  of  which  fever,  his  better  part,  that  part  of  sir 
Henry  Wotton  which  could  not  die,  put  off  mortality,  with  as 
much  content  and  chearfulness  as  human  frailty  is  capable  of; 
being  then  in  great  tranquillity  of  mind,  and  in  perfect  peace  with 
God  and  man. 

And  thus  the  circle  of  sir  Henry  Wotton's  life  (that  circle 
which  began  at  Bocton,  and  in  the  circumference  thereof,  did  first 
touch  at  Winchester-school,  then  at  Oxford,  and  after  upon  so 
many  remarkable  parts  and  passages  in  Christendom,)  that  circle 
of  his  life,  was  by  death  thus  closed  up  and  compleated,  in  the 
seventy  and  second  year  of  his  age,  at  Eton  college ;  where  ac- 
cording to  his  will,  he  now  lies  buried,  with  his  motto  on  a  plain 
grave-stone  over  him;  dying  worthy  of  his  name  and  family, 
worthy  of  the  love  and  favour  of  so  many  princes,  and  persons  of 
eminent  wisdom  and  learning,  worthy  of  the  trust  committed  unto 
him,  for  the  service  of  his  prince  and  country. 

All  readers  are  requested  to  believe,  that  he  was  worthy  of  a 
more  worthy  pen,  to  have  preserved  his  memory,  and  com- 
mended his  merits  to  the  imitation  of  posterity. 

Iz.  WA. 
i  2 


His  state 

Is  kingly.    Thousands  at  His  bidding  speed 
And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest ; — 
They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait. 



THE  following  Life  is  published,  but  not  without  some  omissions, 
from  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar,  by  P.  PecJcard, 
D.D.  Master  of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge.  Cambridge,  printed 
by  J.  Archdeacon,  1790.  The  present  edition,  it  is  presumed,  is 
greatly  increased  in  value,  by  a  large  accession  of  very  interesting 
papers,  transcribed  from  the  Lambeth  library,  by  permission  of 
his  grace  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  The  notices  which  are 
included  in  brackets  are  borrowed  from  Dr.  Peckard. 


THE  editor  of  the  following  Memoirs  has  been  long  and  frequently 
solicited  to  publish  the  life  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar,  of  which  it 
was  known  that  he  once  had  a  manuscript  account  in  his  posses- 
sion. It  now  seems  necessary  to  give  a  short  history  of  this  MS. 
and  the  reason  why  he  has  hitherto  delayed  his  compliance  with 
the  solicitations  that  have  been  made  to  him. 

He  married  the  eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  Edward  Ferrar,  late  of 
Huntingdon,  who  by  his  will  left  to  him  his  books  and  papers. 
Among  the  latter  was  a  manuscript  life  of  Nicholas  Ferrar, 
entitled,  "  The  complete  Church  of  England  Man,  &c."  written 
out  fair  and  prepared  for  the  press,  from  authentic  memoirs  in 
the  family,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Francis  Peck  :  a  gentleman  well 
known  to  the  literary  world  by  his  publications  relative  to  various 
articles  of  antiquity. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Ed.  Ferrar,  which  happened  in 
1769,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jones,  of  Sheephall,  in  the  county  of  Hert- 
ford, then  on  a  visit  to  the  editor  at  Huntingdon,  requested  the 
perusal  of  this  manuscript,  which  was  granted :  and  the  editor 
soon]  after  went  for  some  time  with  his  family  to  Bath.  On  his 
return  to  Huntingdon,  he  was  informed  of  the  sudden  death  of 
Mr.  Jones,  occasioned  by  a  fall  from  his  horse. 

Having  made  all  possible  enquiry  after  this  MS.  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Sheephall  without  effect,  the  editor  called  upon  a 
brother  of  Mr.  Jones,  who  then  lived  near  St.  Clement's  church 
in  the  Strand,  who  undertook  to  recover  and  restore  it.  But  he 
also  was  prevented  doing  any  thing  by  his  sudden  death,  which 
happened  in  a  few  days  after  this  application. 

Since  that  time  the  editor  has  made  all  the  enquiry  both  public 
and  private  that  was  in  his  power,  but  all  to  no  purpose. 



Having  now,  after  near  twenty  years'  fruitless  enquiry,  given 
up  all  hopes  of  recovering  his  property,  the  editor  nevertheless 
determines,  as  far  as  it  is  in  his  power,  to  gratify  the  solicitations 
of  his  friends  with  respect  to  the  life  of  Mr.  Nich.  Ferrar.  And 
having  found  the  original1  MS.  from  which  Mr.  Peck  composed 
his  work,  entitled,  "  The  complete  Church  of  England  Man  exem- 
plified in  the  holy  life  of  Mr.  N.  Ferrar ;"  as  also  some  loose  and 
unconnected  papers  of  Mr.  Peck's  rough  draught,  he  here  humbly 
offers  to  the  public  the  result  of  his  investigation.  And  although 
he  has  thought  it  necessary  sometimes  to  change  an  obsolete 
phrase  for  one  more  modern,  or  to  leave  out  some  passages  that 
might  now  appear  of  no  weight,  or  to  add  now  and  then  a  few 
sentences  for  the  sake  of  connection,  yet  in  every  thing  of  moment 
the  present  production  is  faithful  to  the  original. 

1  The  original.']  This  MS.,  as  will  be  seen  below,  in  the  body  of  this  life, 
was  compiled  by  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  the  elder  brother  of  Nicholas,  about  the 
year  1654. 


MR.  NICHOLAS  FERRAR,  though  not  of  exalted  rank  himself, 
was  of  a  family  highly  respectable  for  that  real  merit  which  sur- 
passes antiquity  of  descent  or  nobility  of  title,  a  family  illustrious 
for  virtue. 

Gualkeline,  or  Walkeline  de  Ferrariis,  a  Norman  of  distinction, 
came  into  England  with  William  the  Conqueror.  To  Henry  de 
Ferrariis,  the  second  of  this  family,  William  gave  Tutbury  and 
other  castles  ;  and  more  than  a  hundred  and  eighty  lordships. 
In  process  of  time  the  family  became  very  numerous ;  founded 
several  religious  houses ;  had  the  honour  of  peerage ;  and  different 
branches  of  it  were  settled  in  many  different  counties. 

One  line  was  long  since  established  in  Yorkshire,  from  which 
was  descended  Nicholas,  the  father  of  that  Nicholas  to  whose 
memory  these  imperfect  memoirs  are  dedicated.  He  was  very 
nearly  related  to  that  pious  and  resolute  martyr  Robert  Ferrar, 
bishop  of  St.  David's,  who  sealed  the  truth  of  the  Protestant 
religion  with  his  blood,  and  with  these  remarkable  words  after  his 
condemnation  to  the  stake,  "  If  you  see  me  stir  in  the  fire,  believe 
not  the  doctrine  I  have  taught  V 

Nicholas  Ferrar  the  father  was  brought  up  in  the  profession  of 
a  merchant  adventurer,  and  traded  very  extensively  to  the  East 
and  West  Indies,  and  to  all  the  celebrated  seats  of  commerce. 
He  lived  in  high  repute  in  the  city,  where  he  joined  in  cominer- 

1  /  have  taught.']  [Richard  Jones,  a  knight's  son,  coming  to  bishop  Ferrar 
a  little  before  his  execution,  lamented  the  painfulness  of  the  death  he  had  to 
suffer.  To  whom  the  bishop  answered,  that  if  he  saw  him  stir  in  the  pains 
of  his  burning,  he  should  then  give  no  credit  to  his  doctrine.  And  as  he 
said  so  he  right  well  performed  the  same.  For  so  patiently  he  stood  that  he 
never  moved  :  but  even  as  he  stood  holding  up  his  stumps,  so  still  he  con- 
tinued till  one  Richard  Gravel  with  a  staff  dashed  him  upon  the  head,  and  so 
stroke  him  down.  March  30,  1555.  Fox,  Acts  and  Monuments.'} 


cial  matters  with  sir  Thomas  and  sir  Hugh  Middleton,  and  Mr. 
Bateman.  He  was  a  man  of  liberal  hospitality,  but  governed  his 
house  with  great  order.  He  kept  a  good  table,  at  which  he 
frequently  received  persons  of  the  greatest  eminence,  sir  John 
Hawkins,  sir  Francis  Drake,  sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  others, 
with  whom  he  was  an  adventurer :  and  in  all  their  expeditions  he 
was  ever  in  the  highest  degree  attentive  to  the  planting  the  Chris- 
tian religion  in  the  new  world.  At  home  also  he  was  a  zealous 
friend  to  the  established  church,  and  always  ready  to  supply  his 
prince  with  what  was  required  of  him.  He  lent  300£.  at  once 
upon  a  privy  seal :  a  sum  at  that  time  not  inconsiderable.  He 
had  the  honour  of  being  written  Esq.  by  Q.  Elizabeth :  and  the 
exemplification  of  his  arms  is  still  in  the  family. 

He  married  Mary  Wodenoth,  daughter  of  Laurence  Wode- 
noth,  esq.  of  the  ancient  family  8  of  that  name,  .of  Savington  hall 
in  Cheshire,  where  her  ancestors  in  lineal  descent  had  enjoyed 
that  lordship  near  five  hundred  years,  and  were  allied  to  the  prin- 
cipal families  of  that  country. 

Mary  Wodenoth  was  surpassed  by  none  in  comeliness  of  body 
or  excellence  of  beauty.  She  was  of  modest  and  sober  deport- 
ment, and  of  great  prudence.  Of  few  words,  yet  when  she  spoke, 
bishop  Lindsel3  was  used  to  say  of  her,  he  knew  no  woman 
superior  to  her  in  eloquence,  true  judgment  or  wisdom,  and  that 
few  were  equal  to  her  in  chanty  towards  man,  or  piety  towards 

This  worthy  couple  lived  together  many  years  in  harmony  and 
happiness,  perfecting  their  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  in  the 
conscientious  practice  of  every  duty.  They  saw  descended  from 
them  a  numerous,  and  a  virtuous  family 4,  of  whose  education  they 

3  Ancient  family.']    An  account  of  the  Wodenoths,  with  their  arms  and 
pedigree,  will  be  found  in  Ormerod's  History  of  Cheshire,  iii.  261,  262. 

*  Bishop  Lindsel.']  Augustine  Lindsell,  dean  of  Lichfield,  elected  bishop  of 
Peterborough,  22nd  December,  1632;  translated  to  Hereford  7th  March, 
1634;  died  6th  November,  1634. 

4  A  virtuous  family.']    Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  father,  died  1st  April,  1620, 
leaving  issue,  "  John  Farrar,  eldest  sonne,  of  the  age  of  30  yeares ;  Nicholas, 
second  sonne,  fellow  of  Clare  Hall,  in  Cambridge,  of  the  age  of  27  yeares ; 
Richard,  third  sonne,  merchant  of  London,  of  the  age  of  24  yeares;  Susan, 
only  daughter  lyvyng,  married  to  John  Collett ',  of  Bourne,  in  the  county  of 

1  This  John  Collett  (alias  Collet)  had  issue  by  the  said  Susan  five  sons 
and  seven  daughters ;  the  eldest  of  which  daughters  (by  name  Mary)  was 
unmarried  in  1684.  The  rest  of  them  and  the  two  eldest  sons  married. 


took  uncommon  care.  They  did  not  spoil  their  children  by  abso- 
lutely sparing  the  rod,  but  what  occasional  severity  they  judged 
to  be  necessary  was  so  softened  by  tenderness  and  affection,  as 
to  produce  not  only  the  fear  of  doing  amiss,  but  the  love  of  doing 

The  little  instances  of  corrective  discipline  exercised  by  these 
affectionate  parents  in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
would  perhaps  excite  the  derision  of  the  fastidious  reader  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth ;  they  are  therefore  omitted.  Nevertheless 
they  were  well  calculated  to  impress  the  tender  mind  with  a  reve- 
rential awe  for  the  Supreme  Being ;  with  obedience  to  parents, 
and  instructors ;  with  universal  and  disinterested  benevolence ; 
with  modesty,  with  humility,  and  a  proper  sense  of  subordination ; 
with  an  abhorrence  of  all  vice,  but  particularly  of  every  species  of 

The  children  born  to  these  virtuous  parents  were  all  constantly 
trained  in  virtue  and  religion.  Their  daily  practice  was  to  read, 
and  to  speak  by  memory  some  portion  of  the  Scriptures,  and  parts 
of  the  Book  of  Martyrs :  they  were  also  made  acquainted  with 
such  passages  of  history  as  were  suited  to  their  tender  years. 
They  were  all  instructed  in  music  ;  in  performing  on  the  organ, 
viol,  and  lute,  and  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  singing ;  in  the 
learned  and  modern  languages  ;  in  curious  needle- works,  and  all 
the  accomplishments  of  that  time.  The  young  men,  when  arrived 
at  years  of  discretion,  had  permission  each  to  choose  his  profes- 
sion, and  then  no  expense  was  spared  to  bring  him  to  a  distin- 
guished excellence  in  it.  For  this  was  an  invariable  maxim  with 
the  parents,  that  having  laid  a  firm  foundation  in  religion  and 
virtue,  they  would  rather  give  them  a  good  education  without 
wealth,  than  wealth  without  a  good  education. 

The  parish  church  and  chancel  of  St.  Bennett  Sherehog  in 
London,  Mr.  Ferrar  repaired  and  decently  seated  at  his  own 
expence ;  and  as  there  was  not  any  morning  preacher  there,  he 

Cambridge,  gent.  He  had  also  issue  by  Mary,  his  said  wife,  Erasmus  and 
William,  both  barresters  of  the  common  law,  that  dyed  both  without  issue. 
John  Farrar,  eldest  sonne  of  the  said  Mr.  Nicholas  Farrar,  married  two 
wives :  his  first  wife  was  Anne,  daughter  of  William  Shepard,  of  Great  Rol- 
wright,  in  the  county  of  Oxon,  Esq.,  by  whom  he  had  no  issue.  His  second 
wife  was  Bersabe,  daughter  of  Israel  Owen,  of  London,  gent.,  by  whom  he 
had  issue  Mary,  who  dyed  yonge,  and  Nicholas  of  the  age  of  two  yeares." — 
From  the  Funeral  Certificate  in  Hearne's  Caii  Vindicia,  ii.  683. 


brought  from  the  country  Mr.  Francis  White,  and  made  hii 
their  first  lecturer.     Mr.  White  was  afterwards  advanced  to  th< 
see  of  Ely 5. 

When  a  stranger  preached,  Mr.  Ferrar  always  invited  him 
dinner,  and  if  it  was  discovered  that  he  was  in  any  necessity,  he 
never  departed  without  a  handsome  present.  In  truth  they  never 
were  without  a  clergyman  as  a  companion  in  their  house,  or  even 
on  their  journeys,  as  they  always  accustomed  themselves  to 
morning  and  evening  prayer. 

Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  third  son  of  this  worthy  couple,  was  born 
the  22d  and  christened  the  23d  of  Feb.  1592,  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Mary  Stayning  in  Mark-lane,  London.  His  godfathers  do 
not  appear.  His  godmother  was  a  Mrs.  Riggs,  wife  to  captain 
Riggs,  who  recommended  herself  highly  to  the  esteem  of  q.  Eliza- 
beth, by  an  heroic  act  which  she  performed  upon  the  sea-shore  at 
Dover  in  1 588,  as  her  story  relates  at  large. 

He  was  a  beautiful  child  of  a  fair  complexion,  and  light- coloured 
hair.  At  four  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  school,  being  of  a 
tractable  disposition  and  lively  parts.  At  five  he  could  read  per- 
fectly, or  repeat  with  propriety  and  grace  a  chapter  in  the  Bible, 
which  the  parents  made  the  daily  exercise  of  their  children.  By 
the  brightness  of  his  parts,  and  the  uncommon  strength  of  his 
memory  he  attained  with  great  ease  and  quickness  whatsoever  he 
set  himself  to  learn ;  yet  was  he  also  remarkably  studious ;  being 
a  rare  instance  of  the  union  of  the  brightest  parts  with  the  most 
intense  industry.  From  the  early  possession  of  his  mind  with 
ideas  of  piety  and  virtue,  and  a  love  for  historical  information, 
the  Bible  in  his  very  early  years  became  to  him  the  book  above 
all  others  most  dear  and  estimable  ;  and  next  to  this  in  his  esteem 
was  Fox's  book  of  Martyrs,  from  which  he  could  repeat  perfectly 
the  history  of  his  near  kinsman  bishop  Ferrar.  And  when  in  his 
riper  years  he  undertook  the  instruction  of  the  family,  he  con- 
stantly exercised  them  also  in  the  reading  and  in  the  study  of 
these  two  books.  He  was  particularly  fond  of  all  historical  rela- 
tions, and  when  engaged  in  this  sort  of  reading,  the  day  did  not 
satisfy  him,  but  he  would  borrow  from  the  night;  insomuch  that 
his  mother  would  frequently  seek  him  out,  and  force  him  to  par- 
take of  some  proper  recreation.  Hence,  even  in  his  childhood, 

*  See  of  Ely]  Francis  White,  dean  of  Carlisle,  was  successively  bishop  of 
Carlisle,  in  1626;  of  Norwich,  in  1629;  of  Ely.  in  1631.  He  died  in  1638. 


his  mind  was  so  furnished  with  historical  anecdotes,  that  he  could 
at  any  time  draw  off  his  schoolfellows  from  their  play,  who  would 
eagerly  surround  him,  and  with  the  utmost  attention  listen  to  his 
little  tales,  always  calculated  to  inspire  them  with  a  love  of  piety 
and  goodness,  and  excite  in  them  a  virtuous  imitation. 

When  he  was  very  young  he  was  entered  into  Latin  at  London, 
at  the  desire  of  his  master,  though  others  thought  it  too  soon : 
but  he  was  so  eager  and  diligent  in  his  application  that  he  soon 
surpassed  all  his  companions. 

He  was  of  a  grave  disposition,  and  very  early  shewed  a  great 
dislike  of  every  thing  that  savoured  of  worldly  vanity.  In  his 
apparel  he  wished  to  be  neat,  but  refused  all  that  was  not  simple 
and  plain.  When  bands  were  making  for  the  children,  he 
earnestly  entreated  his  mother  that  his  might  not  have  any  lace 
upon  them,  like  those  of  his  brothers,  but  be  made  little  and 
plain,  like  those  of  Mr.  Wotton a,  a  for  I  wish  to  be  a  preacher  as 
he  is."  Mr.  Wotton  was  a  learned  divine  and  reader  of  divinity 
in  Gresham  college.  He  was  frequently  at  Mr.  Ferraris,  and 
always  examined,  and  exercised  young  Nicholas,  being  wonder- 
fully delighted  with  his  ingenuity. 

He  was  good  natured  and  tender  hearted  to  the  highest  degree ; 
so  fearful  of  offending  any  one,  that  upon  the  least  apprehension 
of  having  given  displeasure,  he  would  suddenly  weep  in  the  most 
submissive  manner,  and  appear  extremely  sorry.  His  temper  was 
lovely,  his  countenance  pleasing :  his  constitution  was  not  robust, 
but  he  was  active,  lively,  and  chearful.  Whatsoever  he  went 
about  he  did  it  with  great  spirit,  and  with  a  diligence  and  discre- 
tion above  his  years. 

And  now  the  parents  were  informed  by  their  friends,  and  by 
Mr.  Francis  his  school-master,  that  it  was  time  to  send  him  to 
some  greater  school,  where  he  might  have  a  better  opportunity  to 
improve  himself  in  the  Latin  tongue.  It  was  thereupon  resolved 
to  send  him  and  his  brother  William  to  Euborn,  near  Newbury 
in  Berkshire,  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Brooks,  an  old  friend,  who  had 
many  other  pupils,  who  was  a  religious  and  good  man,  but  a  strict 

While  preparations  were  making  for  this  journey,  an  event 

6  Mr.  Wotton  J\  Anthony  Wotton,  chosen  professor  of  divinity  in  Gresham 
College,  in  March,  1596,  at  its  foundation,  and  lecturer  of  Allhallows,  Bark- 
ing :  he  died  in  1626.  An  account  of  him  and  of  his  works  will  be  found  in 
Ward's  Lives  of  the  Gresham  Professors. 


took  place  which  made  the  deepest  and  most  lively  impressi( 
upon  the  mind  of  young  Nicholas,  and  strongly  marks  his  cha- 
racter, and  the  bent  of  his  disposition.  He  was  but  six  years 
age,  and  being  one  night  unable  to  sleep,  a  fit  of  scepticism 
seized  his  mind,  and  gave  him  the  greatest  perplexity  and  un< 
siness.  He  doubted  u  Whether  there  was  a  God  f  and  if  there 
was,  "  What  was  the  most  acceptable  mode  of  serving  him  f1 
In  extreme  grief  he  rose  at  midnight,  cold,  and  frosty,  and  wenl 
down  to  a  grass  plat  in  the  garden,  where  he  stood  long  time  sad 
and  pensive,  musing,  and  thinking  seriously  upon  the  great  doubt 
which  thus  extremely  perplexed  him.  At  length,  throwing  him- 
self on  his  face  upon  the  ground,  and  spreading  out  his  hands,  h( 
cried  aloud,  "  Yes,  there  is,  there  must  be  a  God :  and  he,  n< 
question,  if  I  duly  and  earnestly  seek  it  of  him,  will  teach  me  no< 
only  how  to  know,  but  how  to  serve  him  acceptably.  He  will 
with  me  all  my  life  here,  and  at  the  end  will  hereafter  make  m( 

These  are  exalted  and  wonderful  sentiments 7  for  a  child  of  si: 

7  Wonderful  sentimentsJ]  It  will  be  proper  to  subjoin  here,  from  Hearne's 
Caii  Vindicia,  vol.  ii.  p.  684,  5,  the  "  Account  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar's  first 
years,  from  a  paper  MS.  of  Dr.  (John)  Worthington's."  Its  value  is  enhanced 
by  Dr.  W.  having  been  well  acquainted  with  the  party. 

"Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  born  about  the  year  1596,  in  London,  of  reli- 
gious parents;  who  taught  him  in  his  infancy  the  first  foundations  of 
Christian  religion.  He  was  taught  at  the  age  of  four  or  five  years  to  say  his 
prayers  often  every  day ;  to  repeat  the  Church  Catechism ;  and  to  read  the 
Psalter  and  the  New  Testament. 

"  When  he  was  six  years  old,  and  by  his  mother  had  been  taught  to  read 
perfectly  throughout  the  whole  Bible,  it  is  worthy  of  memory  and  admiration 
to  hear  what  he  did.  Upon  a  Friday  night  in  summer,  having  supped,  as 
the  manner  was,  with  bread  and  beer,  and  said  his  prayers  and  catechism, 
his  mother  sent  him  up  to  bed.  But  this  good  child,  having  a  mind  set 
upon  God,  went  not  to  bed,  but  into  an  upper  chamber  or  garret;  where, 
upon  his  knees,  or  sometimes  flat  upon  the  ground,  he  prayed,  wept,  com- 
muned with  his  own  heart,  and  with  his  gracious  God  all  the  night.  Two 
things  especially  in  that  night's  holy  exercise  were  so  imprinted  in  the  heart 
and  mind  of  the  child  that  they  came  fresh  into  his  memory  every  day  of  his 
life.  (This  he  told  me  more  than  once,  two  or  three  years  before  his  death.) 
The  one  was,  the  joy  and  sweetness  which  he  did,  in  that  watching  night, 
conceive  and  feel  in  his  heart.  The  other  was  the  gracious  promise  which 
God  made  to  him,  to  bless  and  keep  him  all  his  whole  life,  so  that  he  would 
constantly  fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments. 

"This  invocation  and  fervent  prayer  of  this  child,  stirred  up  in  him  by 
the  Spirit  and  grace  of  God,  was  so  followed  by  the  same  Spirit  in  an  evident 


years  old :  and  this  anecdote  may  influence  the  reader  to  give 
credit  to  those  sublime  ecstasies  of  devotion  which  he  experienced 
and  expressed  at  the  close  of  his  life. 

His  doubts  now  vanished,  his  mind  became  easy,  and  he 
returned  to  his  apartment :  but  the  remembrance  of  what  he  felt 
upon  this  occasion  made  him  ever  after  strongly  commiserate  all 
who  laboured  under  any  religious  doubt,  or  despair  of  mind. 
And  in  the  future  course  of  his  life  he  had  repeated  opportunities 
to  exert  his  benevolence  to  those  who  experienced  a  similar 

In  the  year  1598,  he  was  sent  to  Euborn  school,  near  Newbury, 
in  Berkshire,  where  he  made  such  a  rapid  progress  in  Latin, 
Greek,  and  logic,  that  he  soon  became  the  first  scholar  of  his 
years.  He  strengthened  his  memory  by  daily  exercise  :  he  was 
a  great  proficient  in  writing  and  arithmetic,  and  attained  such 
excellence  in  short  hand,  as  to  be  able  to  take  accurately  a  ser- 
mon or  speech  on  any  occasion.  He  was  also  well  skilled  both  in 
the  theory  and  practice  of  vocal  and  instrumental  music. 

Thus  accomplished,  in  his  fourteenth  year,  his  master,  Mr. 
Brooks,  prevailed  with  his  parents  to  send  him  to  Cambridge, 
whither  he  himself  attended  him,  and  admitted  him  of  Clare-hall, 
presenting  him,  with  due  commendation  of  his  uncommon  abilities, 
to  Mr.  Augustine  Lindsell,  the  tutor,  and  Dr.  Wm.  Smith 8,  then 
master  of  the  college. 

His  parents  thought  proper,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrance 
of  some  friends  against  it,  to  admit  him  a  pensioner  for  the  first 
year ;  as  they  conceived  it  more  for  his  good,  to  rise  by  merit 
gradually  to  honour.  In  this  situation,  by  excellent  demeanour, 
and  diligent  application  to  his  studies,  he  so  deported  himself  in 
all  things,  and  to  all  persons,  that  he  instantly  gained  the  affec- 
tions and  applause  of  all  who  knew  him,  performing  all  his  exer- 
cises with  distinguished  approbation. 

Mr.  Lindsell  spared  not  to  make  full  proof  of  his  abilities, 

effectual  vocation  of  him,  that  it  resembleth  the  calling  of  Samuel,  when  he 
was  yet  a  child ;  and  Timothy's  knowing  God  from  his  youth  by  his  mother 
Eunice,  and  his  grandmother  Lois's  godly  admonitions  and  instructions. 
"At  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  went  to  Cambridge,  to  Clare  Hall." 
8  Dr.  Wm.  Smith.']  Or  Smyth,  fellow  of  King's  College,  elected  master  of 
Clare  Hall  in  15Q8,  chaplain  to  king  James  and  rector  of  Willingham  in  1607. 
He  died  provost  of  King's  in  1615. 

VOL.  iv.  K 


wishing,  as  he  was  used  to  express  himself,  to  see  his  inside,  as 
well  as  his  outside.  He  therefore  made  many  trials  of  his  abili- 
ties, which  the  rest  of  the  fellows  thought  unreasonable ;  saying 
"it  was  a  shame  to  spur  a  fleet  horse,  which  already  outwent  the 
rider's  own  desire,  and  won  every  race  he  put  him  to."  When 
they  urged  that  he  required  impossibilities,  he  would  reply,  "  con- 
tent yourselves  a  little,  you  shall  see  what  the  boy  can  do,  and 
that  too  without  much  trouble."  These  proofs  of  wonderful  abi- 
lities were  continually  repeated,  and  he  thus  went  on  from  day  to 
day  improving  in  all  good  learning.  His  attention  and  diligence 
was  such,  that  it  was  observed  his  chamber  might  be  known  by 
the  candle  that  was  last  put  out  at  night,  and  the  first  lighted  in 
the  morning.  Nor  was  he  less  diligent  in  his  attendance  at 
chapel,  than  at  his  studies,  so  that  his  piety  and  learning  went  on 
hand  in  hand  together. 

In  his  second  year  he  became  fellow-commoner,  and  being  now 
every  day  more  and  more  the  companion  of  the  fellows,  he  every 
day  became  more  and  more  esteemed  by  them.  In  1610,  he  took 
his  degree  of  bachelor  of  arts.  At  this  time  he  was  appointed 
to  make  the  speech  on  the  king's  coronation  day  (July  25)  in  the 
college  hall ;  and  the  same  year  he  was  elected  fellow  of  that 

If  we  take  a  view  of  him  at  this  period  when  he  became  fellow, 
we  shall  find  that  his  natural  parts  were  wonderfully  improved, 
his  memory  so  enlarged  and  strengthened,  that  he  had  read  no- 
thing of  worth,  but  he  had  made  it  his  own,  and  could  always 
instantly  apply  it  to  the  present  occasion.  He  spoke  also  and 
wrote,  and  argued  with  such  ingenious  dexterity  that  very  few 
indeed  were  equal  to  him.  Nevertheless  he  was  still  so  eager  in 
the  pursuit  of  farther  acquisitions,  that  industry  and  genius 
seemed  to  be  incorporated  in  him.  Nor  was  he  more  attentive 
to  his  own  instruction,  than  to  the  happiness  of  all  with  whom  he 
was  concerned.  For  he  was  a  constant  and  indefatigable  pro- 
moter of  peace ;  and  when  any  difference  had  arisen,  he  had  tin1 
art  so  to  win  upon  each  side,  that  he  would  draw  the  ooateadiag 
parties  from  their  unfriendly  resolutions,  and  reanimate  and 
blish  harmony  between  them.  Mr.  Lindsell  was  used  to  say  of 
him,  "  May  God  keep  him  in  a  right  mind  !  For  if  he  should 
turn  schismatic,  or  heretic,  he  would  make  work  for  all  the  world. 
Such  a  head,  such  power  of  argument  !  such  a  tongue,  and  su.-h 


a  pen !  such  a  memory  withal  he  hath,  with  such  indefatigable 
pains,  that,  all  these  joined  together,  I  know  not  who  would  be 
able  to  contend  with  him." 

His  constitution  was  of  feminine  delicacy,  and  he  was  very  sub- 
ject to  aguish  disorders ;  yet  he  bore  them  out  in  a  great  measure 
by  his  temperance,  and  by  a  peculiar  courageousness  of  spirit 
which  was  natural  to  him.  His  favourite  sister,  married  to  Mr. 
Collet,  lived  at  Bourn  Bridge,  near  Cambridge.  And  as  the  air 
of  Cambridge  was  found  not  well  to  agree  with  him,  he  made 
frequent  excursions  to  Bourn  Bridge,  where  he  passed  his  time 
in  the  pursuit  of  his  studies,  and  in  the  instruction  of  his  sister's 

But  his  tutor,  Mr.  Lindsell,  Mr.  Ruggle9,  and  others  of  the 
fellows,  having  now  apprehension  of  his  health,  carried  him  to  Dr. 
Butler,  the  celebrated  physician l  of  Cambridge,  who  had  been  of 
Clare-hall,  and  was  a  particular  friend  of  Mr.  Lindsell.  Dr.  But- 
ler conceived  a  great  affection  for  Mr.  Ferrar,  and  exerted  all  his 
skill ;  yet  still  the  disorder  increased  more  and  more  upon  him ; 
and  at  length  this  good  physician  said,  "  Why  should  I  give  thee 
any  more  prescriptions  ?  ah1  I  can  do  will  not  conquer  this  dis- 
temper. Alas !  all  I  can  say  is,  you  must  henceforth  deal  with 

9  Mr.  Ruggle.~\  [Mr.  Ruggle  wrote  the  Latin  comedy  of  Ignoramus,  which 
was  several  times  acted  before  king  James  I.  at  Cambridge  and  Royston, 
with  great  applause.  At  one  of  which  times  the  king  cried  out  treason, 
treason.  And  being  asked  what  was  the  matter,  said,  he  believed  the  author 
and  the  actors  together  had  a  design  to  make  him  laugh  himself  to  death. 
Another  time,  when  the  king  was  seated,  and  expected  the  scholars  to  per- 
form, he  was  surprised  with  the  sound  of  a  horn,  and  the  appearance  of  a 
post-boy,  who  said  that  Ignoramus  was  ready  to  perform  his  part,  but  that 
none  of  the  lawyers  would  lend  him  a  gown  to  act  in.  Ah!  said  the  king 
(who  was  deceived,  and  took  the  scholar  for  a  real  post-boy),  this  is  a  plot  of 
Cukes  !  (meaning  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  Coke.)  But  if  Cuke  won't  let  the 
lawyers  lend  him  a  gown,  by  my  saul,  man,  he  shall  lend  him  his  own.  This 
speech  of  the  king  put  the  audience  into  an  exceeding  merry  humour,  and 
the  play  went  on.  But  it  is  suggested  that  the  play  of  Ignoramus,  acted  at 
Cambridge,  1614,  occasioned  Mr.  Selden's  History  of  Tithes,  published  1616, 
in  order  to  be  even  with  the  clergy.  See  Lloyd's  Memoirs,  fol.  p.  520.  F.  P.] 

1  Celebrated  physician.]  William  Butler,  who  died  29th  January,  1618. 
He  declared  that  prince  Henry  was  poisoned,  "  from  his  brain  being  liver- 
coloured  and  putrefied."  Peacham  says  of  him,  "our  late  Master  Butler  of 
Cambridge,  that  learned  and  excellent  physician,  was,  like  sir  Thomas  More 
and  other  great  scholars,  observed  to  be  most  careless  and  slovenly  in  his 

K    2 


this  disorder  when  it  comes  to  you,  as  men  do  with  beggars, 
when  they  have  a  mind  to  disuse  them  from  their  houses,  give 
them  nothing  but  let  them  go  as  they  came.  You  must  through 
a  spare  diet,  and  great  temperance,  even  all  your  lite  long,  seek 
to  be  quit  of  this  unhappy  companion :  he  must  be  starved  away." 

For  some  time  after  this  Mr.  Ferrar  grew  better,  but  soon 
relapsed  again,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1612,  he  began  to  grow 
very  ill.  His  friends  now  feared  he  would  not  get  over  the 
winter.  Dr.  Butler  said,  "  I  can  do  no  more  for  him,  the  last 
remedy,  or  hope  I  can  give  you  is  from  the  change  of  air.  He 
must  go  in  the  spring  to  travel.  I  doubt  not  but  I  can  keep  him 
up  this  winter,  and  if  travel  recover  him  not,  nothing  will.  Be- 
sides, it  is  high  time  his  mind  be  taken  off  from  these  his  in- 
cessant studies  ;  these  alone,  if  he  be  permitted  to  go  on,  will 
speedily  destroy  his  constitution.  The  course  I  propose  may 
prolong  his  life  till  he  is  thirty-five  years  of  age  ;  but  longer,  in 
my  judgment,  it  will  not  last.  In  the  mean  time,  he  will  live  to 
do  great  good.  And  think  not  that  his  time  spent  in  travel  will 
be  lost ;  no :  depend  upon  it  he  will  improve  himself  greatly. 
Mr.  Lindsell,  go  your  way ;  think  of  it :  persuade  his  parents  to 
it.  I  can  say  no  more  to  you.  Let  him  go  next  spring.  I  will 
take  care  of  him  this  winter."  And  so  he  did  most  affectionately. 

Mr.  Ferrar  was  now  almost  seven  years  standing  in  the  uni- 
versity, and  was  to  take  his  master  of  arts  degree  at  the  ensuing 
Midsummer,  1613;  and  he  had  already  performed  with  great 
credit  all  his  previous  exercises. 

It  being  made  known  to  the  heads  of  the  university  that  he 
was  to  travel,  and  to  have  the  opportunity  of  going  with  that 
noble  company  which  then  went  with  the  lady  Elizabeth2  to  con- 
duct her  to  the  palatinate  with  the  palsgrave  her  husband,  it  was 
propounded  that  he  might  have  the  favour  of  cap  and  hood  imme- 
diately, though  before  the  usual  time,  so  as  to  be  complete  master 
of  arts  before  his  departure,  which  was  readily  granted,  and  im- 
mediately his  graces  were  given  him.  And  now  many  came  to 
present  their  most  affectionate  wishes  to  him  for  health  and  hap- 
piness in  his  travels.  And  thus  he  bade  Cambridge  adieu  ! 

2  Lady  Elizabeth.']  Princess-royal  of  England,  daughter  of  Jaines  I.,  and 
wife  of  Frederic,  elector  palatine,  to  whom  she  was  married  in  February,  1613. 
He  assumed  the  crown  of  Bohemia  in  1C  19,  but  after  the  battle  of  Prague, 
in  November,  1620,  he  not  only  lost  his  crown,  but  also  his  hereditary 


All  things  being  settled  with  respect  to  his  going  abroad,  Mr. 
Ferrar  left  the  following  written  farewell  to  his  family,  which  his 
mother  found  in  his  study  a  few  days  after  he  was  gone. 

"  Since  there  is  nothing  more  certain  than  death,  nor  more 
uncertain  than  the  time  when ;  I  have  thought  it  the  first  and 
chiefest  wisdom  for  a  man  to  prepare  himself  for  that  which  must 
one  day  come,  and  always  be  ready  for  that  which  may  every 
hour  happen :  especially  considering  how  dangerous  any  error  is 
here,  which  cannot  be  amended :  neither  is  any  one  the  nearer  to 
death  for  having  prepared  for  it.  It  is  then  a  thing  of  exceeding 
madness  and  folly  to  be  negligent  in  so  weighty  a  matter,  in  re- 
spect whereof  all  other  things  are  trifles.  I  here  confess  my  own 
wretchedness  and  folly  in  this,  that  through  the  common  hope  of 
youth,  I  have  set  death  far  from  me  :  and  persuading  myself  that 
I  had  a  long  way  to  go,  have  walked  more  carelessly  than  I  ought. 
The  good  Lord  God  be  merciful  unto  me. 

"  Indeed  I  have  a  long  way  to  run,  if  death  stood  still  at  the 
end  of  threescore  years :  but  God  knows  if  he  be  not  running 
against  me,  if  he  be  not  ready  to  grasp  me,  especially  considering 
the  many  dangers  wherein  I  am  now  to  hazard  myself,  in  every 
one  whereof  death  dwells.  If  God  be  merciful  to  me,  and  bring 
me  safe  home  again,  I  will  all  the  days  of  my  life  serve  him  in  his 
tabernacle,  and  in  his  holy  sanctuary. 

"  I  hope  he  who  hath  begun  this  mind  in  me  will  continue  it, 
and  make  me  to  walk  so  as  I  may  be  always  ready  for  him,  when 
he  shall  come  either  in  the  public  judgment  of  all  the  world,  or 
in  private  judgment  to  me  by  death.  This  is  my  purpose  and 
this  shall  be  my  labour. 

"  And  you,  my  most  dear  parents,  if  God  shall  take  me  from 
you,  I  beseech  you  be  of  good  comfort,  and  be  not  grieved  at  my 
death,  which  I  undoubtedly  hope  shall  be  to  me  the  beginning  of 
eternal  happiness.  It  was  God  that  gave  me  to  you,  and  if  he 
take  me  from  you,  be  not  only  content  but  joyful  that  I  am  deli- 
vered from  the  vale  of  misery.  This  God  that  hath  kept  me  ever 
since  I  was  born,  will  preserve  me  to  the  end,  and  will  give  me 
grace  to  live  in  his  faith,  to  die  in  his  favour,  to  rest  in  his  peace, 
to  rise  in  his  power,  and  to  reign  in  his  glory. 

"  I  know,  my  most  dear  parents,  your  tender  affections  to- 
wards your  children,  and  fear  your  grief  if  God  take  me  away. 
I  therefore  write  and  leave  this,  that  you  might  know  your  son's 


estate,  and  assure  yourselves  that  though  he  be  dead  to  you,  yet 
he  is  alive  to  God. 

"  I  now  most  humbly  beseech  you  to  pardon  me  in  whatsoever 
I  may  have  at  any  time  displeased  you  :  and  I  pray  God  to  bless 
and  keep  you :  to  give  you  a  happy  life  here,  and  everlasting  in 
the  world  to  come. 

"  Your  most  humble  and  obedient  son, 

"  N.  FERRAR." 

"  Postscript, 

"  My  dearest  brothers  and  sisters ;  If  I  live,  you  shall  find  me 
a  faithful  and  loving  brother  unto  you  all :  if  I  die,  I  beseech  you 
by  the  fear  of  God,  by  the  duty  to  your  parents,  by  the  bond  of 
nature,  by  the  love  you  bear  me,  that  you  all  agree  in  perfect  love 
and  amity ;  and  account  every  one  the  other's  burthen  to  be  his ; 
so  may  plenty  and  prosperity  dwell  among  you.  So  prays  your 
faithful  and  loving  brother 

"  N.  FEURAR." 

"  If  I  die,  I  desire  that  the  value  of  ol.  of  my  books  may  be 
given  to  the  college  :  the  rest  I  leave  to  my  father's  and  mother's 
disposing :  yet  I  desire  that  in  them  my  worthy  tutor  Lindsel 
and  cousin  Theophilus  may  be  remembered :  and  if  any  of  my 
sisters'  sons  prove  a  scholar,  the  rest  may  be  given  to  him. 

"  This  10th  day  of  April,  being  Sunday." 

His  parents'  consent,  and  the  college  license  obtained,  and  the 
favour  of  the  university  granted  with  respect  to  his  degree,  Mr. 
Ferrar  prepared  to  set  out  upon  his  travels :  a  course  of  life 
undertaken  upon  Dr.  Butler's  counsel,  for  the  restoration  of  his 
health,  and  to  take  him  off  from  his  incessant  application  to 
his  studies.  He  also  himself  had  a  desire  to  see  foreign  coun- 
tries for  the  further  acquisition  of  knowledge.  And  as  he  \u-ll 
understood  the  grounds  of  the  protestant  religion,  and  was  con- 
vinced of  its  truth  on  scriptural  authority,  as  he  had  read  most 
of  the  fathers,  and  controversial  writings  between  the  church  of 
England  and  the  church  of  Rome,  and  as  he  had  a  memory  so 
retentive,  that  he  forgot  nothing  which  he  had  read,  but  was  able 
at  all  times  to  bring  it  forth,  and  apply  it  to  the  present  occasion, 
being  thus  armed  before-hand  against  whatever  might  occur,  and 


relying  wholly  upon  the  mercy  of  God  to  protect  him,  with  the 
most  virtuous  resolutions  of  heart  he  set  out  upon  his  travels. 

His  tutor  Lindsell  solemnly  protested  that  had  he  not  per- 
fectly known  his  wonderful  abilities  and  uncommon  virtue,  he 
should  not  in  these  so  tender  years  of  his  pupil  have  been  a  pro- 
moter of  his  travelling  in  the  manner  he  did,  all  alone  ;  but  would 
have  provided  some  worthy  tutor  to  attend  him.  He  knew  that 
in  all  virtue  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  an  old  man,  so  firmly  fixed  in 
his  religious  principles,  that  there  was  no  fear  of  his  being  se- 
duced by  any  thing  that  he  should  hear  or  see.  He  knew  that 
the  stock  of  learning,  wisdom,  and  religion  which  he  carried  out 
with  him,  would  be  increased  at  his  return. 

With  these  encouragements  did  Mr.  Lindsell  appease  the  fears 
and  tender  anxieties  of  his  parents  at  parting  with  him :  for  they 
bade  him  farewell  under  the  dread  of  never  seeing  him  again. 
And  indeed  not  without  reason  :  for  he  was  then  far  from  being 
recovered  of  his  aguish  disorder :  but  Dr.  Butler  said  the  sea 
would  remove  it,  and  they  would  soon  hear  that  he  was  freed 
from  his  infirmity. 

Sometime  before  this 3,  Dr.  Scot 4,  the  king's  sub-almoner,  was 
made  master  of  Clare-hall,  in  the  place  of  Dr.  Smith,  removed  to 
be  provost  of  Kings.  He  conceived  a  high  respect  and  affection 
for  Nicholas  Ferrar,  and  undertook  that  he  should  be  introduced 
to  the  lady  Elizabeth,  to  go  in  her  company  and  retinue ;  she 
being  now  ready  to  depart  with  the  prince  palsgrave  her  husband, 
who  were  to  go  first  to  Zealand,  then  to  Holland,  and  from  thence 
home  to  the  palatinate.  Dr.  Scot  therefore  took  Mr.  Ferrar  to 
court,  to  kiss  her  royal  highness1  hand  :  not  now  in  the  garb  of  a 
scholar,  but  habited  as  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  belonged  to 
her.  As  for  him  he  took  no  delight  in  these  gay  garments,  but 
submitted  from  a  sense  of  propriety  to  be  thus  clad,  and  to  satisfy 
his  friends  more  than  himself.  Dr.  Scot  also  introduced  him,  and 
procured  him  the  knowledge  and  acquaintance  of  the  whole  at- 
tendance of  the  English  courtiers  who  then  went  with  the  lady 

Being  now  provided  with  his  bills  of  exchange,  he  went  in  the 
same  ship  with  the  master  of  the  green  cloth,  who  took  an  espe- 
cial liking  to  him.  They  arrived  happily  at  Flushing,  where  the 

3  Before  this.']  In  1612. 

4  Dr.  Scot.']  Who  was  afterwards  made  dean  of  Rochester,  in  July,  1615, 
and  died  in  December,  1620. 


royal  fleet  landed  their  passengers.  And  in  this  voyage  Mr. 
Ferrar  found  the  benefit  of  the  sea  air  which,  as  Dr.  Butler  told 
him  it  would,  cleared  him  of  all  the  remains  of  his  disorder.  At 
Middleburgh  the  lady  Elizabeth  was  highly  entertained  and 
feasted  with  all  her  noble  attendants ;  and  Mr.  Ferrar  as  one  of 
her  gentlemen  wanted  for  no  marks  of  due  notice  and  respect. 
Here  he  made  strict  observation  of  every  thing  worth  seeing,  and 
gained  a  sufficient  acquaintance  with  the  language  to  serve  him 
for  all  ordinary  affairs  and  occasions.  From  thence  the  lady 
Elizabeth  passed  on  from  city  to  city,  in  all  which  she  was  received 
with  great  honour,  and  came  to  the  Hague:  from  thence  to 
Amsterdam,  where  she  was  more  magnificently  entertained  than 
at  any  former  place.  In  all  these  towns  Mr.  Ferrar  visited  the 
several  meeting-houses  of  the  Brownists,  Anabaptists,  and  other 
Protestant  dissenters,  both  to  observe  their  manners  and  teaching, 
and  to  see  if  all  were  answerable  to  his  own  former  reading.  At 
all  which  times  he  noted  their  errors,  and  greatly  confirmed  him- 
self in  his  own  opinions.  The  Jews'  synagogue  likewise  he  left 
not  unseen,  and  their  orders.  But  that  which  chiefly  attracted 
his  notice  at  Amsterdam  was  their  guest,  or  almshouses,  where 
young  children  of  both  sexes  are  brought  up  to  learn  handicrafts. 
Here  he  got  particular  information  of  all  their  proceedings,  and 
very  liberally  rewarded  the  attendants.  He  particularly  admired 
the  stateliness  and  neatness  of  the  Dutch  in  these  public  edifices, 
and  the  wonderful  good  orders  and  rules  by  which  they  are  go- 
verned. He  also  visited  their  churches,  heard  their  sermons,  and 
attended  all  their  religious  rites  and  ceremonies.  He  next  observed 
their  magazines  for  all  sorts  of  stores :  their  innumerable  boats 
and  ships,  and  noted  the  different  way  of  building  from  ours  in 
the  structure  of  their  war  ships.  Ours  he  perceived  were  stronger 
made,  but  theirs  formed  with  more  advantage  for  speedy  sailing. 
He  was  also  charmed  with  their  cleanliness  and  the  many  good 
orders  every  where  observed  to  that  intent.  And  he  observed 
that  the  whole  nation  kept  their  houses  elegantly  neat  in  all  places. 
When  he  came  to  his  lodgings  he  regularly  entered  all  his  obser- 
vations in  a  book  which  he  kept  for  that  purpose. 

The  princess  royal  now  directed  her  course  towards  the  pala- 
tinate, which  was  different  from  the  route  intended  by  Mr.  Ferrar, 
who  had  resolved  to  pass  through  the  lower  parts  of  Westphalia, 
and  so  to  Bremen,  Staad,  Hamburgh,  Lunenburgh,  Lulu-ck. 
Leipsic,  and  so  on  to  the  upper  parts  of  Germany.  This  his  deter- 


mination  he  made  known  to  the  lady  Elizabeths  chief  attendants, 
who  warmly  pressed  him  to  accompany  them  to  Heidelberg,  the 
palsgrave^s  court,  and  the  chief  city  of  the  palatinate.  They  told 
him  that  her  highness  had  taken  such  good  notice  of  him  herself, 
and  had  heard  so  much  of  him  from  the  commendations  of  others, 
that  if  he  sought  preferment  by  his  travels,  he  might  now,  even 
at  the  first,  make  a  very  fair  step  towards  it.  There  was  no 
doubt  but  he  might  be  made  her  secretary,  that  she  would  think 
him  well  worthy  of  that  place,  and  might  recommend  him  to  a 
better.  He  humbly  thanked  them  for  their  good  opinion,  but 
assured  them  they  were  mistaken  in  his  abilities.  He  was  then 
introduced  to  her  royal  highness,  and  kissed  her  hand,  who  bade 
him  farewell,  and  wished  him  much  happiness  in  his  travels. 

Mr.  Ferrar  now  set  forward  on  his  journey  from  Amsterdam  to 
Hamburgh,  and  on  his  way  thither  he  travelled  for  some  time 
with  a  person  for  his  guide,  who  had  but  one  eye.  After  some 
days1  travel  they  passed  by  a  wood,  where  was  a  gibbet  and  some 
bodies  hanging  in  chains.  "  Now,"  said  the  postman,  "  sir,  look 
yonder ;  those  villains  there  hanging,  some  years  since  set  upon 
my  waggon,  wherein  were  an  English  youth,  and  a  Hamburgh 
merchant,  then  newly  come  out  of  Spain.  The  rogues  carried  us 
into  that  wood  on  a  cold  frosty  morning  and  stripped  us  :  and 
they  found  good  gold  tied  up  in  the  shirts  of  the  gentlemen  who 
had  travelled  with  me,  which  they  took,  then  drank  up  our  wine, 
and  went  away  laughing.  But  sometime  after,  they,  still  using 
the  same  trade,  set  upon  another  waggon,  whose  passengers  made 
some  resistance,  when  they  shot  three  of  them  dead  in  the  waggon, 
and  then  fled.  They  were  afterwards  taken,  and  there  hanged  as 
you  see."  "  Your  history  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Ferrar ;  "  for  that 
English  youth  was  my  brother.  He  has  told  me  this  story  him- 
self. And  when  I  first  saw  you,  I  knew  you  to  be  the  postman 
with  whom  he  travelled,  for  he  described  you  as  having  but  one 

At  length  he  arrived  at  Hamburgh,  where  the  factors  of  the 
merchant  adventurers  were  resident,  to  whom  his  father  and  bro- 
ther were  well  known.  Here  he  found  fresh  bills  of  exchange, 
and  letters  from  his  father  to  Mr.  Gore,  his  old  acquaintance,  and 
then  deputy-governor  of  the  company ;  who  received  Mr.  Ferrar 
with  great  friendship  and  respect,  and  provided  a  convenient 
lodging  for  him.  During  his  stay  here  he  procured  a  scholar  of 
that  country  to  attend  him  daily  at  his  lodgings,  and  instruct  him 


in  the  high  Dutch5  language,  in  which  he  made  such  a  proficiency 
as  to  be  of  great  service  in  the  course  of  his  travels.  Here  also 
in  the  afternoon  he  spent  some  hours  in  examining  the  curiosities 
in  this  city,  and  in  the  places  adjacent.  And  here  he  informed 
himself  by  reading  the  histories  in  the  Dutch  language,  and  by 
discourse  with  men  of  learning  in  the  place,  of  the  original  of  this 
and  the  neighbouring  cities  :  of  their  several  sorts  of  government ; 
their  religion  ;  ecclesiastical  establishment ;  their  trades  ;  their 
commerce ;  the  nature  and  disposition  of  the  people,  and  their 
particular  virtues  and  vices. 

From  Hamburg  Mr.  Ferrar  travelled  up  the  country  through 
many  cities,  at  each  of  which  he  staid  a  sufficient  time  to  see,  and 
make  observations  upon  all  things  worthy  of  notice,  which  he 
regularly  entered  into  his  book  for  that  use  in  short  hand. 

In  this  manner  he  passed  up  to  the  university  of  Leipsic  in 
Saxony :  where,  having  proper  letters  of  credit,  he  resolved  to 
abide  for  some  time,  both  to  perfect  himself  in  the  high  Dutch 
language,  and  to  gain  also  what  other  knowledge  and  learning  he 
could  in  that  place ;  and  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  manner 
of  ordering  all  things  in  that  university.  He  lodged  himself 
therefore  in  a  principal  house  of  that  city,  which  by  a  friend's 
help  he  obtained  permission  to  do ;  and  the  people  there  were  very 
civil  and  courteous  to  him.  The  English  factors  shewed  him 
much  respect,  and  were  greatly  delighted  with  his  pleasant  dispo- 
sition and  temper.  And  they  were  the  more  taken  with  him 
when  they  saw  that  he  would  not  upon  any  terms  drink  wine  or 
any  strong  drink,  and  had  also  observed  his  great  temperance  in 
all  things,  and  that  he  was  very  humble  and  meek  in  his  behaviour. 
Yet  still  they  saw  him  gallant  and  rich  in  apparel.  But  that 
fashion  of  dress  his  parents  thought  was  the  best  for  him  to  make 
use  of  in  his  travels,  that  so,  according  to  the  mode  of  the  world, 
he  might  have  the  easier  admittance  into  all  places,  and  all 
respectable  company. 

At  Leipsic  he  made  enquiry  after  all  the  ablest  scholars  in 
every  art  and  science  in  that  university,  who  could  be  procured 
for  money  to  teach  him  ;  and  he  paid  them  all  most  liberally,  and 
far  beyond  their  expectations.  From  these  circumstances  he  was 
thought  to  be  some  person  of  great  account.  These  his  several 
tutors  coming  to  him  at  set  times,  and  on  several  days,  and  his 

ifjh  Dutch."}  The  German  language,  die  dcutschc  Sprache. 


personal  resorting  with  the  utmost  diligence  to  all  the  exercises 
performed  in  the  public  schools,  made  him  to  be  very  much 
noticed.  He  gained  great  reputation  for  his  uncommon  abilities, 
his  diligence,  and  his  sweet  deportment ;  his  extraordinary  quick- 
ness in  attaining  whatsoever  he  set  himself  to,  the  elegant  Latin 
which  he  spake  with  the  utmost  readiness,  and  his  abundant  know- 
ledge in  several  sorts  of  learning.  The  universal  admiration  he 
obtained  was  also  much  heightened  by  his  being  so  very  young. 
His  acquaintance  was  desired  by  all  the  learned  men  of  that 
university  :  and  he  being  free  in  all  courtesy  to  enter  into  discourse 
with  them,  many  every  day  resorted  to  him.  But  finding  that 
this  took  up  too  much  of  his  time,  he  privately  retired  into  lodg- 
ings in  a  village  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  there  enjoyed  a  better 
opportunity  to  follow  the  studies  he  had  resolved  upon ;  his  tutors 
attending  him  as  they  had  done  before.  And  here  he  passed 
some  time  in  reading  over  the  best  authors  who  had  written  on 
the  German  nation,  and  in  acquainting  himself  with  the  nature  of 
the  government,  laws,  and  customs. 

The  connection  of  the  English  factors  at  Leipsic  with  their 
principals  at  home  soon  transmitted  the  fame  of  Nicholas  Ferrar 
to  England,  who  was  deemed  and  represented  as  a  person  who 
had  some  great  intent  in  his  mind,  but  that  it  was  feared  by  all 
that  he  could  not  live  to  be  a  man  of  any  considerable  years. 

As  on  one  hand  his  parents  could  not  but  rejoice  on  hearing 
these  accounts,  so  on  the  other  they  could  not  help  fearing  that 
his  extreme  application  might,  though  at  present  he  was  in  per- 
fect health,  nevertheless  decay  his  strength,  and  shorten  his  life. 
They  therefore  exhorted  him  to  curb  his  too  diligent  mind,  and  to 
abate  of  his  incessant  studies,  for  that  they  would  allow  him  what 
time  and  money  he  would  for  his  expences. 

Having  now  learned  what  he  could  at  Leipsic,  he  departed 
from  thence  for  Prague,  and  there  he  abode  a  considerable  time, 
till  he  was  able  to  converse  fluently  in  the  high  Dutch  language. 
From  thence  he  wandered  up  and  down,  to  every  great  place  here 
and  there,  sometimes  backwards,  sometimes  forward,  visiting 
Augsburg,  Strasburg,  Nuremberg,  Ulme,  Spires,  the  emperor's 
court,  and  so  from  one  princess  court  to  another,  observing  every 
where  their  manner  of  living,  and  spending  their  time  ;  what 
magazines  of  arms  they  had  ;  what  retinues  they  kept ;  what  their 
incomes  were  ;  from  whence  they  had  their  origin ;  what  had 
been  their  revolutions ;  and  accurately  noting  down  whatever 


Germany  had  in  any  place  worth  recording.  There  being  also  in 
several  parts  of  Germany  very  ingenious  handicrafts  of  various 
sorts,  in  all  these  he  acquired  a  considerable  degree  of  knowledge. 
So  that  there  was  scarce  any  trade,  art,  skill  or  science  concerning 
which  he  could  not  discourse  to  the  astonishment  even  of  the 
professors  themselves  in  their  respective  professions.  He  was 
master  also  of  the  technical  terms  of  their  several  mysteries,  and 
could  speak  properly  to  them  in  their  own  dialect.  He  could 
express  all  those  things  that  belong  to  war,  soldiery,  and  arms, 
all  that  belong  to  ships,  and  navigation,  and  was  perfect  in  all  the 
mariners^  peculiar  phrases,  and  in  all  the  particularities  of  every 
trade  and  occupation  in  common  life.  And  in  truth  all  this  with- 
out any  great  care  or  trouble.  For  his  penetration  was  so  acute, 
and  his  memory  so  vast  and  retentive  ;  that  every  thing  he  read, 
or  heard,  or  saw,  was  all  his  own,  and  he  could  instantly  apply  it 
to  the  occasion  that  presented  itself,  as  all  who  knew  him  found 
by  daily  proof. 

From  Germany,  Nicholas  Ferrar  bent  his  course  for  Italy. 
But  the  plague  being  at  that  time  in  many  towns  of  Germany, 
when  he  came  into  the  Venetian  territories,  he  was  obliged  to 
remain  thirty  days  in  one  place  in  a  lazaretto,  where  he  was  shut 
up  for  public  security ;  but  was  allowed  a  chamber  to  himself. 
Here  he  had  leisure  to  recollect  all  those  things,  which  to  that 
time  had  passed  in  his  travels ;  to  review  his  notes  and  observa- 
tions, which  he  had  before  all  along  put  into  short  hand  ;  and  to 
digest  them  into  better  order  for  his  future  use.  Here  also  he 
had  time  to  meditate  what  he  was  to  do  in  Italy  ;  how  to  order 
himself  and  his  future  life  to  the  best  advantage  to  attain  his 
several  ends  in  travel. 

Having  compleated  the  thirty  days  of  his  confinement,  and 
being  again  at  liberty  to  prosecute  his  journey,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  relate  a  remarkable  escape  he  had  upon  the  road  betwivn 
Prague  and  Padua.  As  he  rode  one  day  upon  some  very  narrow 
and  dangerous  passages  of  the  Alps,  his  guide  being  somewhat 
before  him,  suddenly  from  the  side  of  a  hill  came  an  ass  laden 
with  a  great  piece  of  timber.  The  passage  down  the  hill  was 
(  xtremely  narrow,  on  one  side  very  high  and  precipitous  above 
him,  and  on  the  other  also  precipitously  steep  and  fearful,  so  that 
if  any  man  fell,  nothing  but  immediate  death  could  be  expected. 
The  timber  did  not  lie,  as  at  first  laid  down,  lengthwise,  but  quite 
across  the  ass's  back,  and  reached  the  whole  breadth  of  the  j«a» 


from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  the  beast  came  down  the  hill 
apace.  The  guide,  who  was  advanced  a  few  yards,  and  had  passed 
the  narrow  crevice  through  which  the  ass  came  into  the  common 
road,  seeing  Mr.  Ferrar's  situation,  cried  out  in  terror.  The 
man's  exclamation  caused  Mr.  Ferrar  to  look  up,  who  was  care- 
fully regarding  his  horsed  steps,  and  was  then  upon  the  extreme 
brink  of  the  precipice.  There  was  but  a  moment  between  him 
and  certain  destruction;  when  in  that  moment,  just  as  the  beast 
came  upon  him  she  tripped,  and  by  that  motion  the  timber  was 
turned  the  right  way  as  it  was  at  first  laid  on.  Mr.  Ferrar  then 
suddenly  stopping  his  horse  upon  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice, 
there  stood  still,  till,  as  it  pleased  God,  the  beast  went  quietly  on 
with  her  burthen,  and  passed  him  without  any  harm  but  a  slight 
stroke  from  the  timber.  After  this  providential  escape,  for  which 
he  returned  his  most  devout  thanks  to  God,  he  proceeded  on  his 
road  to  Padua,  and  so  on  to  Venice,  without  any  other  disaster. 

At  Venice  Mr.  Ferrar  found  letters  of  recommendation  directed 
for  sir  Dudley  Carleton,  at  that  time 6  the  English  ambassador 
there,  which  he  presented  to  him,  who  most  courteously  embraced 
him,  saying,  u  I  have  a  long  time  expected  your  coming  to 
Venice ;  for  I  have  received  several  letters  from  many  noble 
personages  concerning  you.  And  now,  sir,  assure  yourself  that 
wherein  I  may  in  any  kind  befriend  you,  I  shall  most  gladly  do 
it."  The  ambassador  then  caused  him  to  dine  with  him,  and 
invited  him,  he  said,  once  for  all  to  do  so  every  day.  Mr.  Ferrar 
frequently  repaired  to  him  that  he  might  inform  himself  from  so 
eminent  a  person  of  those  things  that  might  be  of  service  to  him 
in  his  future  travels. 

Having  now  staid  a  convenient  time  at  Venice,  he  returned  to 
Padua,  which  before  he  had  only  passed  through,  but  now  resolved 
to  settle  there  for  some  time ;  in  order  to  perfect  himself  in  all 
the  learning  and  knowledge  to  be  attained  in  that  university. 
Here  therefore  he  procured  tutors  in  those  sciences  in  which  he 
intended  to  be  farther  instructed.  And  he  won  their  highest 
admiration  at  his  ingenious  questions  and  answers,  his  ready 
apprehension,  his  earnest  prosecution,  and  his  wonderful  pro- 
ficiency, in  so  many  and  such  various  studies,  which  at  the  same 
time  seemed  to  him  no  other  than  so  many  several  recreations. 

6  At  that  time.']   From  1610  to  1615,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  sir  Henry 


His  acquaintance  was  courted  by  all  the  learned  men  in  the 
university,  but  particularly  by  the  most  eminent  physicians ;  as 
he  bestowed  uncommon  diligence  in  the  pursuit  of  medical  know- 
ledge. And  this  he  did  from  a  double  motive,  both  because  he 
held  the  physic  fellowship  at  Clare  Hall,  and  also  on  account  of 
the  infirm  and  precarious  state  of  his  own  health :  in  which 
respect  a  proper  proficiency  in  the  science  of  medicine  might  be 
peculiarly  serviceable  to  him.  And  now  his  friendship  with  the 
Paduan  physicians,  and  their  high  esteem  and  great  love  for  him, 
was  of  singular  benefit  to  him  :  for  he  fell  very  dangerously  ill  of 
a  disorder,  which  in  all  human  probability  would  have  proved 
fatal,  had  it  not  been  for  their  watchful  care,  and  most  tender 

It  has  been  suggested  by  Mr.  Archdeacon  Oleya,  that  some  of 
these  Paduan  physicians,  during  Mr.  Ferrar's  illness,  endeavored 
to  seduce  him  to  popery :  as  also,  that  upon  his  recovery  from 
this  illness,  he  made  a  vow  of  perpetual  celibacy :  and  that  he 
\\ould  upon  his  return  to  England,  as  soon  as  he  could  conve- 
niently, settle  his  affairs  for  that  purpose,  and  endeavour  to  spend 
tin-  remainder  of  his  life  in  a  religious  retirement.  But  of  these 
articles  I  do  not  find  sufficient  evidence :  yet  if  the  latter  be  true, 
it  will  account  for  a  very  remarkable  instance  of  self-denial,  which 
will  occur  in  the  future  part  of  his  life. 

While  Mr.  Ferrar  continued  thus  at  Padua,  to  establish  his 
health,  and  pursue  his  studies,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  exer- 
cising his  great  faculty  in  quieting  a  troubled  mind.  For  now  an 
English  gentleman  came  thither,  who  by  the  impious  custom  of 
duelling  had  killed  another,  and  had  fled  from  his  country  to 
a\nid  the  puni.-hment  which  the  laws  adjudge  to  murderers.  He 
was  under  the  deepest  melancholy,  but  concealed  the  cause  of 
his  uneasiness.  At  length,  however,  he  acquainted  Mr.  Ferrar 
\\ith  his  misfortune,  declaring  his  great  contrition,  and  sincere 
repentance ;  and  beseeching  him  to  give  him  counsel  and  com- 
fort. Mr.  Ferrar  by  his  spiritual  consolations,  his  persuasive 
Mients,  and  wonderful  power  over  the  human  mind,  at  length 
made  the  unhappy  sufferer  more  easy  and  composed,  and  con- 
firmed him  in  the  hope  of  forgiveness.  And  this  event  laid  the 

•  [Postscript  to   Mr.   Herbert's   Country  Parson,  F.  P.]     See  Thomas 
Baker's  account  of  Oley,  given  to  Hearne  in  Auu  and  printed  in 

Cflfi  Vindicuf,  vol.  ii.  p.  690. 


foundation  of  a  sincere  and  most  affectionate  friendship  between 
them  b. 

Mr.  Ferrar  thus  passing  his  time  between  Venice  and  Padua  in 
a  course  of  learning  and  virtue,  and  in  the  most  laudable  pursuits, 
he  was  much  sought  after,  and  visited  by  the  English  who  were 
then  also  on  their  travels;  who  were  delighted  with  his  con- 
versation, notwithstanding  that  his  way  of  life  and  manner  of 
thinking  were  very  different  from  their  own  :  and  they  would  often 
ingenuously  confess  that  he  was  certainly  in  the  right  way,  and 
that  they  could  not  but  wish  they  could  live  as  he  lived. 

These  gentlemen  on  their  return  to  England  spoke  of  him  in 
the  highest  terms  of  applause  to  their  respective  families  and 
connections.  The  Italian  merchants  also  and  the  English  factors 
resident  in  different  parts  of  Italy,  with  whom  he  had  transac- 
tions on  money  concerns,  all  wrote  of  him  to  their  correspondents 
in  England,  with  the  warmest  commendations,  considering  him 
as  one  who  had  some  great  object  in  view,  and  would  sometime 
appear  to  the  world  possessed  of  very  extraordinary  talents. 
Thus  his  reputation  became  general :  on  the  exchange,  in  the 
city,  at  court,  and  all  over  the  country  he  was  universally  known 
and  universally  admired. 

Having  now  finished  his  intended  studies,  having  traversed  all 
Italy,  and  become  intimately  acquainted  with  every  place  of  con- 
sequence, being  perfect  master  of  the  Italian  language,  both  for 
writing  and  discourse,  having  an  accurate  knowledge  of  all  their 
laws,  customs,  manners,  doctrines,  and  practices,  civil  and  eccle- 
siastic, and  having  made  the  best  use  of  every  thing  he  had  heard, 
read,  or  seen,  and  being  determined  as  to  his  future  plan  of  con- 
duct, he  resolved  at  last  to  pay  a  visit  to  imperial  Rome.  He 
knew  indeed  before  he  went  thither,  as  much  of  that  celebrated 
city,  both  ancient  and  modern,  as  could  be  learned  from  history, 
and  from  conversation  with  many  persons  of  great  judgment  and 
observation,  who  had  lately  been  there  :  but  he  was  desirous  to 
confirm  what  he  had  learned  by  information  from  others,  by  his 
own  observation.  But  having  been  well  informed  that  since  he 
came  into  Italy,  there  had  been  a  particular  account  of  him  sent 
to  Rome,  of  the  college  of  which  he  was  fellow  in  Cambridge,  of 
his  degrees,  and  his  acquisitions  in  learning,  and  particularly 
that  his  person  had  been  described  in  all  points  to  the  college  of 

b  [This  unfortunate  gentleman  is  the  person  who  in  the  original  MS.  is 
frequently  referred  to  as  Mr.  G ]  Gorton  ? 


Jesuits  there ;  the  manner  also  in  which  he  had  spent  his  time  in 
Italy,  with  the  general  conjecture,  that  he  surely  had  some  farther 
end  in  travelling,  than  other  gentlemen  ordinarily  have  :  all  this 
duly  considered  made  him  keep  his  intention  very  private.  For 
he  foresaw  that  without  great  caution  some  mischief  might  pro- 
bably befal  him.  Changing  his  habit  therefore  for  such  a  dress 
as  he  thought  was  most  proper  for  his  disguise,  and  safety,  he  set 
forward,  concealing  the  time  when,  and  keeping  the  place  from 
whence  he  came  always  unknown  to  all  but  one  trusty  friend  only, 

the  unfortunate  Mr.  G ,  who,  whatever  should  befal  him  in 

that  journey,  might  give  an  account  of  him  to  his  family.  He 
travelled  on  foot,  and  contrived  his  business  so  that  he  came  to 
Rome  on  the  Monday  before  Easter ;  and  during  his  stay  there, 
he  every  day  changed  his  lodgings,  coining  in  late  and  going  out 
early:  and  as  to  his  repast,  such  as  it  was,  he  took  that  al><> 
sometimes  at  one  place,  sometimes  at  another,  and  sometimes  at 
none  at  all.  He  staid  at  Rome  about  ten  days,  and  in  that  time 
he  so  improved  his  opportunities  as  that  he  satisfied  himself  in 
seeing  all  that  he  desired.  But  the  particulars  need  not  be  here 
recited,  as  they  may  be  found  in  many  other  books  upon  this 

From  Rome  he  returned  to  Venice,  not  acquainting  any  one 
whore  he  had  been.  At  his  return  he  was  welcomed  home  by 
the  English  gentlemen,  and  all  his  other  acquaintance ;  as  was 
the  custom  with  them  at  other  times,  after  his  other  excursions. 
In  one  of  these,  he  went  to  see  the  chapel  of  Loretto.  From 
thence  he  went  to  Malta,  where  one  of  the  knights  conceiving  a 
particular  friendship  for  him,  at  their  parting  desired  his  accept- 
ance of  one  of  the  rich  crosses  worn  by  the  brethren  of  that 
order,  entreating  him  to  keep  it  for  his  sake ;  and  thus  exchan^in^ 
mutual  good  wishes  and  benedictions,  Mr.  Ferrar  returned  a_ 
to  Venice. 

And  now  intending  at  length  to  leave  Italy,  he  went  from 

Venice  to  Marseilles,  purposing  after  he  had  passed  sufficient 

tiiiM-  in  that  city,  for  visiting  what  was  remarkable  there  and  in 

th'    parts  adjacent,  to  take  ship  there  and  sail  from  thence  to 


Hut  at  Marseilles  he  fell  dangerously  ill.  being  suddenly  sei/<-d 
with  a  violent  fever,  \\hirli  daily  grew  worse  and  worse.  And 
what  added  to  his  misfortune,  he  knew  no  one  in  the  place,  nor 
liad  h«  an\  of  lii>  lonu.-r  aruuaintanre  with  him.  In  this  dis- 


tress  he  sent  for  the  most  celebrated  physician  in  the  city,  and 
trusted  himself  entirely  to  his  care.  He  was  very  regular  in  his 
attendance,  and  was  very  careful  of  him.  His  host  also  and 
hostess  where  he  lodged  shewed  great  tenderness  and  attention 
to  him. 

The  first  day  he  was  taken  ill  he  wrote  to  his  much  loved 
friend  whom  he  had  left  at  Venice,  the  unfortunate  Mr.  G.,  to 
whom  he  had  promised  to  give  information  of  his  arrival  at  Mar- 
seilles. In  this  letter  he  .acquainted  him  that  he  was  beginning 
to  grow  ill,  and  feared  his  illness  would  prove  both  long  and  dan- 
gerous. Nor  was  he  mistaken,  for  his  illness  continued  thirty-four 
days,  and  his  physician  was  for  a  long  time  in  absolute  despair 
of  his  life.  This  made  his  attendants  desirous  to  know  who  he 
was,  which  Mr.  Ferrar  industriously  concealed.  But  one  day,  as 
they  were  looking  amongst  his  things  for  something  he  had  called 
for,  carefully  wrapped  up  in  a  little  box,  was  discovered  the  rich 
cross  which  was  presented  to  him  by  his  friend  the  knight  of 
Malta,  at  his  departure  from  that  island.  At  sight  of  this,  the 
host  and  hostess,  and  the  physician  presently  concluded  that  he 
was  a  knight  of  that  order,  who  was  travelling  unknown,  and 
they  earnestly  entreated  him  no  longer  to  conceal  himself.  Mr. 
Ferrar  in  vain  endeavoured  to  convince  them  of  the  mistake, 
assuring  them  that  he  was  only  a  private  gentleman,  travelling 
for  amusement  and  instruction ;  for  the  more  he  affirmed  this, 
the  more  they  were  confirmed  in  their  own  opinion.  His  disorder 
still  continuing  excessive,  the  physician  had  given  him  up  for  lost. 
But  at  the  very  moment  when  all  hope  was  gone,  a  favourable 
crisis  took  place  ;  and  though  he  was  extremely  weak  and  reduced 
to  the  lowest  degree,  yet  he  soon  appeared  to  be  in  a  fair  way  of 

And  now  word  was  brought  to  him  that  there  was  a  gentleman 
below,  just  arrived  from  Venice,  who  demanded  to  see  him.  They 
who  know  what  true  friendship  is,  need  not  to  be  informed  that 
this  person  could  be  no  other  than  his  dear  and  unfortunate  friend 
Mr.  G.  When  he  came  into  Mr.  Ferrar's  room,  and  beheld  his 
friend  lying  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  so  pale,  weak,  and  reduced, 
he  burst  into  tears.  His  friend  was  equally  affected,  seeing  him 
so  unexpectedly.  They  mutually  embraced,  and  a  long,  and 
affectionately  expressive  silence  ensued :  for  their  hearts  were  so 
full,  that  neither  could  for  some  time  speak  to  the  other.  At 
length  Mr.  Ferrar  told  him  how  welcome  he  was  to  him,  who  but 

VOL.   IV.  J, 


yesterday  expected  never  to  see  him  more.  Mr.  G.  replied,  that 
on  rli.  receipt  of  his  letter  he  became  so  deeply  afflicted.,  that  he 
could  not  rest  day  or  night,  till  he  should  see  him ;  that  if  he 
should  find  him  still  sick,  he  might  abide  with  him  and  take  care 
of  him  :  that  if  he  should  die,  he  might  perform  the  due  honours 
of  burial ;  and  that  if  he  should  recover,  he  might  rejoice  with 
him  on  that  happy  occasion,  and  in  every  respect  shew  him  that 
unfeigned  friendship  which  was  justly  due  to  his  uncommon 

As  a  sincere  and  affectionate  friend  is  perhaps  the  most  effec- 
tual medicine  that  can  be  administered  to  the  sick,  so  by  the  en- 
dearing attentions  of  the  benevolent  Mr.  G.  Mr.  Ferrar  e 
day  advanced  apace  in  his  recovery.  And  when  he  was  thought 
to  be  out  of  danger,  Mr.  G.  said  he  must  at  last  bid  him  farewell, 
and  return  to  Venice.  "  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Ferrar,  "you  shall  now 
return  to  Venice,  but  I  will  return  with  you.  For  as  you  have 
been  so  very  kind  as  to  come  so  far  to  take  care  of  me  when  I 
was  ill,  and  have  likewise  staid  so  long  with  me,  it  is  but  justice, 
and  the  least  return  I  can  make,  to  see  you  safe  back;"  nor 
would  he  take  any  refusal ;  and  so  they  returned  together  to 
Venice.  From  this  place  Mr.  Ferrar  immediately  gave  his  pa- 
rents an  account  of  his  cruel  sickness,  and  recovery  at  Mar- 
seilles, in  a  very  affectionate  letter  bearing  date  April  1616. 

Having  staid  at  Venice  till  he  was  perfectly  recovered,  and  his 
strength  thoroughly  recruited,  he  took  his  last  leave  of  all  his 
friends  and  acquaintance  there;  but  particularly  of  his  dear 
friend  Mr.  G.,  who  at  their  parting  presented  him  with  an  ex- 
cellent and  costly  rapier,  saying  that  perhaps  it  might  be  of 
great  use  to  him  in  his  future  travels,  and  wished  him  to  keep  it 
as  a  testimony  of  his  friendship.  And  now  these  dear  friends 
with  the  warmest  affection  bade  each  other  adieu !  for  in  the 
gulph  of  Venice  a  small  English  vessel  was  ready  to  sail  for 
Spain,  and  Mr.  Ferrar  resolved  to  take  his  passage  in  her,  that 
might  travel  through  Spain,  and  see  that  kingdom,  after 
\\hich  he  proposed  in  like  manner  to  see  France,  and  so  return 

Tin-  >hip  in  which  Mr.  Ferrar  left  Venice,  carried  only  t<  n 
pieces  of  prdnance,  but  was  overloaded,  though  there  were  no 
passengers  but  himself.  They  had  not  been  long  at  sea,  before 
a  large  ship,  a  Turkish  pirate,  gave  them  chace,  and  gained 
speedily  upon  thrm.  Ami  there  bein^  >omi-  'lifference  of  opinion 


between  the  officers  and  mariners,  whether  they  ought  to  yield, 
or  fight  it  out ;  they  referred  their  doubts  to  Mr.  Ferrar,  who 
had  stood  silent  among  them  attending  to  their  debate.  They 
said,  "  This  young  gentleman  has  a  life  to  lose,  as  well  as  we ; 
let  us  hear  what  he  thinks  of  the  matter."  For  from  his  first 
coming  on  board,  upon  discourse  with  him,  they  had  taken  a 
great  liking  to  him,  perceiving  that  he  had  great  skill  in  maritime 

Mr.  Ferrar  being  thus  applied  to  in  form  for  his  opinion,  reso- 
lutely told  them  that  they  ought  to  fight  it  out,  and  put  their  trust 
in  God.  That  it  was  better  to  die  valiantly,  than  be  carried  into 
slavery.  That  God  could  easily  deliver  them,  and  he  hoped  would 
not  suffer  them  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemy.  He  then 
put  them  in  mind  of  the  many  sea  engagements  achieved  by  their 
countrymen,  in  which  the  victory  had  been  gained  against  superior 
numbers.  Thus  encouraged,  his  words  were  so  prevalent,  that 
with  all  speed  they  made  ready  to  defend  themselves,  committing 
their  cause  to  the  protection  of  God.  And  to  shew  that  they 
were  not  deficient  in  English  spirit,  they,  having  the  advantage 
of  the  wind,  and  a  fit  opportunity,  determined  to  give  their  enemy 
a  broadside :  when,  lo  !  just  as  the  master  was  giving  the  word 
to  the  gunner  to  fire,  the  Turkish  ship  to  their  great  astonishment 
fell  off,  and  steered  away  from  them  with  all  the  sail  she  could 
make.  They  soon  perceived  that  this  unexpected  movement  was 
from  the  discovery  of  another  ship,  which  they  supposed  was 
thought  to  be  a  better  booty.  The  Turk  being  gone  they  pro- 
ceeded on  their  voyage,  and  without  any  farther  difficulty  arrived 
at  their  destined  port  in  Spain. 

Soon  after  his  arrival,  Mr.  Ferrar  determined  to  see  Madrid, 
and  the  king's  court,  and  whatever  else  was  worth  notice  in  that 
part  of  the  country.  But  having  spent  some  time  at  Madrid,  he 
had  also  spent  almost  all  the  money  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  Venice.  He  therefore  made  an  enquiry  whether  there 
were  any  bills  of  exchange,  or  letters  for  him,  directed  to  some  of 
the  English  merchants  in  that  city,  but  could  not  hear  of  any ; 
for  he  had  reached  Madrid  long  before  his  father  thought  he 
could  be  there.  In  making  this  enquiry,  he  carried  the  matter 
so,  as  if  it  was  for  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Ferrar,  who,  he 
expected,  would  be  there  about  that  time  :  for  he  was  resolved,  if 
possible,  not  to  discover  himself.  But  it  happened  that  a  Mr. 

L  2 


Wyche,  the  son  of  a  merchant 7,  a  particular  friend  of  Mr.  Ferraris 
father,  was  at  that  time  at  Madrid.  And  he  being  informed  that 
this  young  gentleman  and  stranger  made  frequent  enquiry  after 
one  of  the  name  of  Ferrar,  kept  an  observant  eye  upon  him. 
And  perceiving  something  very  extraordinary  in  his  genteel 
deportment,  in  the  wisdom,  and  the  wit  of  his  conversation,  and 
his  great  knowledge  in  languages,  he  concluded  him  to  be  some 
person  of  high  fashion,  who  was  desirous  to  travel  unknown  :  and 
thereupon,  both  himself,  and  all  the  English  established  there, 
made  him  an  offer  of  all  the  civilities  in  their  power. 

But  as  he  was  now  at  a  stand  how  to  proceed,  and  what  course 
to  take  in  order  to  pass  through  Spain,  and  then  through  France 
home,  and  being  uneasy  that  no  bills  of  exchange  were  come  for 
such  a  one  as  he  enquired  after,  he  suddenly  determined  to  travel 
no  farther  at  present ;  but  immediately  to  make  the  best  of  his 
way  to  England,  and  in  order  to  this,  to  travel  on  foot  as  well  as 
he  could  to  St.  Sebastian's,  and  there  take  ship  for  his  native 

In  preparation  for  this  expedition,  as  he  still  resolved,  if  pos- 
sible, to  keep  himself  unknown,  he  privately  sold  his  cloak,  and 
some  jewels  which  he  had  by  him,  to  supply  his  present  occasions, 
and  provide  for  his  future  wants  in  his  journey.  At  quitting 
Madrid  he  took  leave  of  Mr.  Wyche,  and  the  other  English 
merchants,  with  acknowledgments  of  their  many  civilities  to  him. 
At  which  time  Mr.  Wyche  made  him  an  offer  of  what  money  he 
might  want,  which  Mr.  Ferrar  politely  declined. 

And  now  he  set  forward  on  foot,  with  the  rich  rapier  in  his  hand, 
presented  to  him  by  his  dear  friend  Mr.  G.,  without  a  cloak,  in 
his  doublet  and  cassock.  And  with  many  a  weary  step,  and  very 
few  accommodations,  he  pursued  his  journey,  till  he  found  his 
feet  after  a  few  days'  travelling  on  the  hot  sands  of  that  country 
t"  Ix'come  quite  wearied,  and  the  skin  to  come  off,  so  that  it  was 
excessively  painful  to  him  to  proceed.  One  night  his  hostess 
where  he  lodged,  seeing  he  was  a  young  foot  traveller,  and  that 
he  suffered  greatly  from  the  torment  of  his  feet,  prescribed  to 
him  to  bathe  and  steep  his  feet  for  a  considerable  time  in  a  bowl 

7  Son  of  a  merchant.']  Richard  Wyche,  of  an  old  Cheshire  family,  was  a 
merchant  of  high  note  in  London.  He  had  twelve  sons,  one  of  whom,  Peter, 
(afterwards  sir  Peter  Wyche,  for  many  years  ambassador  at  Constantinople), 
is  probably  the  person  here  mentioned. 


of  sack  which  she  brought  for  that  purpose.  This  gave  him 
immediate  ease,  and  enabled  him  to  proceed  comfortably  on  his 
journey  the  next  morning,  and  by  future  applications  prevented 
all  future  inconveniences  of  that  sort. 

His  reason  for  travelling  always  with  his  rapier  in  his  hand, 
was  not  only  to  be  instantly  on  his  defence  in  case  of  any 
sudden  attack,  but  that  he  might  also  pass  the  more  readily  in 
all  places  as  a  young  gentleman  soldier,  going  towards  Flanders 
to  serve  the  king  of  Spain,  under  Spinola 8.  And  upon  the  way 
at  all  fit  times,  and  places,  as  he  travelled,  he  seemed  to  be  very 
inquisitive  about  Spinola,  and  what  he  was  doing  in  Flanders  ;  so 
that  all  with  whom  he  had  any  discourse  of  this  sort  took  him 
for  an  Italian.  But  at  one  place  where  he  passed  the  night,  the 
governor  being  informed  of  a  stranger  who  lodged  in  the  town, 
examined  him  strictly  in  many  particulars.  And  Mr.  Ferrar 
made  him  such  wary  answers,  that  he  was  at  a  loss  what  farther 
to  say  to  him.  At  last,  casting  his  eyes  upon  the  rapier,  he  told 
him  that  costly  rapier  was  unbefitting  him,  for  he  knew  not  how 
he  came  by  it,  and  therefore  he  would  have  it  from  him.  Mr. 
Ferrar  told  him  he  must  pardon  him  in  not  parting  with  his 
weapon,  which  a  soldier  ought  to  preserve  as  his  life  ;  adding  that 
it  was  given  him  by  a  dear  and  worthy  friend,  who  enjoined  him 
to  keep  it,  and  that  he  was  determined  so  to  do.  But  this  did 
not  satisfy  the  governor,  who  told  him  that  stout  as  he  was  he 
should  deliver  the  rapier  to  him  before  he  departed,  or  he  would 
make  him  repent  his  refusal.  Mr.  Ferrar  replied,  that  he  hoped 
there  was  more  justice  to  be  found  every  where  in  Spain,  than  to 
take  by  force  an  innocent  traveller's  weapon  from  him.  That  he 
had  not  in  any  thing  offended  Caesar,  or  his  laws,  or  the  customs 
of  his  country  since  he  was  in  it,  and  that  he  would  be  cautious 
not  to  do  so  during  the  remainder  of  his  stay.  That  he  came 
very  lately  from  the  king's  court,  and  that  he  had  friends  there 
who  would  not  suffer  him  to  receive  any  wrong.  From  this  wise 
and  resolute  answer,  his  determined  behaviour,  and  a  style  of 
language  so  far  above  his  outward  appearance,  the  standers-by 
concluded  him  to  be  some  other  man  than  his  habit  declared,  and 
advised  the  governor  to  meddle  no  more  with  him  about  the 

8  Under  Spinola.']  The  marquis  Ambrogio  Spinola,  the  celebrated  com- 
mander of  the  Spanish  forces  in  the  war  which  broke  out  in  1614,  caused  by 
the  disputed  succession  to  the  duchies  of  Juliers  and  Cleves. 


rapier.  Who,  then  addressing  himself  to  Mr.  Ferrar,  said, 
41  Well,  I  perceive  you  are  a  young  Italian  gentleman,  and  enquire 
after  our  affairs  in  Flanders,  and  after  the  marquis  Spinola  your 
countryman,  to  whom  I  understand  you  are  going.  I  like  well 
your  weapon,  which  in  truth  is  most  handsome  and  soldierlike ;" 
and  so  he  dismissed  him  to  proceed  on  his  journey. 

While  Mr.  Ferrar  travelled  thus  alone  over  a  great  part  of 
Spain,  he  walked  once  half  a  day  without  seeing  any  body,  and 
was  therefore  obliged  to  guess  at  his  way,  by  the  best  observation 
he  could  make,  to  proceed  straight  forward  from  the  place  where 
he  had  lodged  the  night  before.  A  nd  it  being  now  near  evening, 
he  perceived  tliat  the  road  he  was  in  led  him  to  a  very  high  hill, 
which  at  length  he  with  no  small  pains  and  difficulty  ascended  : 
and  being  arrived  at  the  top,  he  there  found  a  round  plat  of  level 
ground,  of  considerable  magnitude,  encompassed  entirely  with 
rocks  of  a  prodigious  height,  and  extremely  steep  on  every  side, 
neither  could  he  discern  any  pathway,  except  that  by  which  he 
had  ascended,  to  lead  him  out  from  this  rocky  enclosure,  and 
thereby  encourage  him  to  go  forward. 

At  the  sight  of  this  he  was  much  troubled,  thinking  he  had 
wholly  mistaken  the  hill  which  he  had  been  directed  to  ascend, 
and  that  he  must  at  last  take  up  his  unhoused  lodging  there  that 
night.  Being  thus  perplexed,  and  not  knowing  what  to  do,  he 
devoutly  knelt  down,  and  prayed  to  God  to  protect  and  direct 
him.  Then  examining  with  careful  anxiety  all  parts,  to  see  if  he 
could  find  any  way  to  help  him  forward  in  his  journey,  for  it  was 
too  late  to  think  of  returning,  he  espied  a  large  black  hog  come 
hastily  running  out  from  a  narrow  crevice  or  cleft  in  the  rock, 
and  immediately  disappear  again.  But  he  with  his  eyes  observed, 
and  with  his  feet  made  all  possible  haste  to  follow  and  see  what 
was  become  of  the  beast.  For  he  conceived  hopes  that  it  might 
be  some  tame  animal,  now  in  the  evening  returning  to  its  home, 
and  consequently  that  possibly  there  was  some  dwelling-house 
not  far  off.  Presently  he  saw  the  same  creature  again,  now 
running  at  the  further  end  of  the  level  plain  down  the  side  oi 
hill.  And,  coming  to  the  spot,  he  perceived  a  hollow,  covered 
passage,  cut  into  the  solid  rock,  and  at  some  distance  v.ithin  this 
hollow,  a  sort  of  window  or  air-hole,  to  give  light  and  air  to  this 
Mjl.r. -i -ram  an  passage.  Resolving  therefore  to  follow  the  animal 
which  h<  jilaiiil\  MLW  to  eater  this  cavity,  after  some  time,  and 
very  caution  found  a  turning  which  - 


step  more  and  more  dark.  Yet  stopping  a  little  while,  listening, 
and  still  looking  and  venturing  slowly  more  forward,  he  discerned, 
as  he  thought,  a  glimmering  of  more  light  at  a  distance.  So  he 
went  on,  and  found  it  to  be  another  window  or  air-hole,  cut 
like  the  former  through  the  solid  rock  to  give  farther  light  to  the 
subterranean  passage.  Thus  proceeding  onwards,  in  the  same 
manner,  and  under  the  same  disagreeable  circumstances,  he  at 
length  plainly  perceived  that  this  passage  was  a  way  to  some  sub- 
terranean habitation,  cut  by  human  labour  into  the  heart  of  the 
rock.  Thereupon  listening  and  proceeding  with  caution,  he 
fancied  that  he  heard  the  voices  of  people  talking  at  no  great 
distance.  Eesolving  therefore  to  go  forward  again,  he  found  at 
length  that  there  was  indeed  a  sort  of  house  in  the  very  substance 
of  the  rock,  and  that  it  was  a  harbour,  or  place  of  entertainment 
for  passengers  who  travelled  that  way. 

Coming  into  the  room  he  saluted  the  host,  and  the  people  who 
were  there ;  and  sitting  down  he  called  for  bread  and  wine,  and 
then  began  to  discourse  with  them  how  hard  it  was  to  find  the 
way  to  them ;  which,  they  said,  to  a  stranger,  must  be  indeed 
extremely  difficult,  but  was  not  so  to  those  who  were  acquainted 
with  the  turns  and  windings  of  that  subterraneous  labyrinth.  He 
then  called  for  more  wine  to  wash  and  bathe  his  feet.  Which 
done,  after  some  communication  of  ordinary  matters,  such  as 
travellers  use  with  their  hosts,  he  made  strict  observation  of  the 
disposition  and  manners  of  the  people  in  the  house,  and  found 
great  reason  not  very  well  to  like  them ;  but  now  there  was  no 

As  for  the  people,  they  thought  him  to  be  a  young  Italian 
soldier,  going  to  the  marquis  Spinola.  For  that  way  his  conver- 
sation much  tended,  and  shewed  that  he  was  well  acquainted  with 
all  the  military  transactions  in  Flanders  with  the  Hollanders.  At 
length  he  told  them  that  he  was  very  weary  and  very  sleepy,  and, 
if  they  pleased,  would  lie  down  upon  a  bench,  and  take  some  rest. 
For  that,  he  pretended,  was  his  custom  when  he  travelled,  in 
order  to  inure  himself  to  hardships. 

Thereupon  they  shewed  him  into  another  room  within  the 
cavern ;  and  Mr.  Ferrar,  not  laying  his  rapier  away,  but  keeping 
it  close  to  him,  lay  down  to  sleep.  But  he  was  scarce  laid  down, 
when  two  lusty,  ruffian-looking  fellows  and  a  young  woman  came 
into  the  room.  Mr.  Ferrar  heard  and  saw  them,  but  lay  still,  as 
if  he  was  fast  asleep.  The  men  then  demanded  of  the  people  of 


the  house,  "  Who  is  this  here,  who  lies  sleeping  upon  the  bench  2" 
they  answered,  u  We  know  not ;  he  is  lately  come  in  very  weary, 
and  says  he  is  a  young  Italian  soldier,  who  is  going  into  Flanders, 
to  serve  under  Spinola."  And  then  they  entered  into  some  con- 
versation in  a  very  low  voice,  which  Mr.  Ferrar  could  not  hear. 

After  this  they  sat  down  at  a  table  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
room,  and  in  a  bold  manner  began  to  call  for  various  things,  and 
in  drinking  their  wine  they  discoursed  of  different  matters,  and  at 
length  grew  very  merry.  But  at  last  one  of  the  fellows  went  out, 
and  after  a  short  time  came  in  again,  and  then  after  some  slight 
and  foolish  words  began  to  quarrel  with  the  woman.  She  gave 
him  as  cross  words  in  return,  and  their  other  companion  taking 
her  part,  from  words  they  came  to  blows,  and  began  to  lay  hands 
on  the  woman.  Whereupon  she  crying  out,  the  host  came  run- 
ning in,  but  instead  of  being  appeased  by  him,  they  grew  more 
and  more  fierce.  All  this  Mr.  Ferrar  heard  and  saw,  but 
appeared  as  if  he  was  in  a  sound  sleep,  and  kept  his  hand  fast 
upon  his  rapier.  They  called  to  him  for  help,  but  he  regarded 
not  their  brawling,  still  making  as  if  he  was  dead  asleep.  There- 
fore as  he  continued  to  lie  still,  and  seemed  to  take  no  notice  of 
them,  their  contention  ceased,  and  they  all  went  out  of  the  room 
in  very  friendly  terms  together. 

Mr.  Ferrar  saw  all  this  was  done  to  provoke  him  to  rise,  and 
take  one  part  or  other,  that  so  they  might  have  quarrelled  with 
him,  and  carried  into  execution  some  bad  design  against  him.  But 
he  heard  no  more  of  them ;  and  not  being  able  to  sleep,  he  rose 
at  day-break,  and  made  haste  away,  giving  God  thanks  for  his 
escape  out  of  their  hands. 

After  his  escape  from  this  subterranean  abode,  having  travelled 
five  hundred  miles  in  Spain,  in  the  heat  of  summer,  alone,  and  on 
foot,  making  his  observations  on  the  country,  its  curiosities,  and 
productions,  and  on  the  disposition  and  manners  of  the  people, 
he  at  length  arrived  safely  at  St.  Sebastian's.  Here  he  found  a 
ship  ready  to  sail  for  England,  but  waiting  for  a  fair  wind.  In 
this  interval  he  received  great  civilities  from  the  captain  of  the 
vessel,  and  from  all  the  English  settled  at  that  place.  At  len.Lfth 
the  wind  came  fair,  and  after  a  few  days1  happy  passage  he  landed 
at  Dover,  \\liere  he  returned  his  sincere  thanks  to  God  for  bring- 
ing him  in  health  and  safety  to  his  native  country. 

\\e  are  now  no  longer  to  consider  Mr.  Ferrar  as  a  young  gen- 
tlcman  travelling  for  amusement  and  instruction,  displaying  every 


where  uncommon  abilities,  illustrious  virtue,  and  indefatigable 
industry,  exciting  the  highest  admiration,  and  receiving  in  every 
country  universal  applause ;  but  we  shall  now  see  him  the  man  of 
business,  applying,  with  unwearied  attention,  the  great  talents  with 
which  God  had  blessed  him,  to  important  negotiations  both  of  a 
private  and  a  public  nature. 

His  return  was  at  a  very  critical  time.  For  one  branch  of  his 
family  was  in  great  distress,  and  stood  in  need  of  his  care  and 
wisdom.  His  brother  John  Ferrar  was  likewise  entered  into 
a  great  public  employment,  by  which  he  became  engaged  in 
many  affairs  which  required  his  assistance.  For  sir  Edwyn 
Sandys  being  chosen  governor  of  the  Virginia  company,  Mr. 
John  Ferrar  was  made  king's  counsel  for  that  plantation.  He 
therefore  left  the  management  of  his  concerns  in  merchandise  to 
his  friends  and  partners.  And  the  Virginia  courts  after  this  were 
kept  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Ferrar  the  father :  who  from  his  singu- 
lar affection  for  that  honourable  company,  himself  being  one  of 
the  first  adventurers  of  that  plantation  and  the  Somers  Islands 9, 
allowed  them  the  use  of  his  great  hall,  and  other  best  rooms  of 
his  house  to  hold  their  weekly  and  daily  meetings.  Many  other 
things  both  of  public  and  private  concernment,  now  on  foot, 
seemed  equally  to  call  for  the  presence  and  assistance  of  Mr.  N. 
Ferrar.  For  (not  to  speak  of  public  matters)  to  all  human 
appearance,  without  his  advice,  diligence,  and  great  wisdom  in 
managing  the  private  affairs  of  his  family  at  this  critical  juncture, 
there  had  been  great  danger  not  only  of  much  loss  in  many 
particulars,  but  even  of  the  overthrow  and  ruin  of  his  elder 

Immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Dover  Mr.  Ferrar  rode  post  to 
London  ;  and  finding  the  door  of  his  fathers  house  open,  he  en- 
tered with  his  rich  rapier  at  his  side,  arrayed  only  in  his  cassock 
and  doublet,  and  just  in  the  manner  as  he  had  travelled  from 
Madrid  to  St.  Sebastian's. 

The  meeting  between  the  worthy  parents  and  their  beloved  son, 
whom  they  had  not  seen  for  five  years,  and  whom  they  had  ex- 
pected never  to  have  seen  again,  was  mutually  affectionate  and 

9  Somers  Islands.']  The  Bermudas,  called  also  the  Somers  Islands,  in  honour 
of  sir  George  Somers,  one  of  the  Virginia  Company,  to  whom  they  belonged. 
The  family  name  was  corrupted  by  ignorant  chartographers  into  Summer 
Islands,  a  blunder  which  the  French  have  made  tenfold  more  absurd  by  call- 
ing them  the  Isles  de  VEtt. 


endearing  in  the  highest  degree,  and  may  more  easily  be  imagined 
than  described.  This  his  unexpected  and  much  wished  for  return 
was  in  the  year  1618;  he  himself  being  then  twenty-six,  his 
father  seventy-two,  and  his  mother  sixty-two  years  of  age. 

He  soon  shewed  himself  upon  the  Exchange,  and  in  person  re- 
turned his  thanks  to  those  merchants  by  whose  factors  he  had 
received  his  remittances,  and  many  local  civilities.  He  was  now 
much  noticed  both  for  the  beauty  of  his  person,  and  for  his 
many  eminent  qualities:  and  all  his  friends  soon  found  that  the 
accounts  they  had  received  of  his  worth  and  wisdom  from  abroad 
had  not  been  exaggerated,  but  that  his  virtues  and  his  accom- 
plishments surpassed  all  report  and  all  expectation. 

In  his  travels  through  Holland,  Germany,  Italy,  and  Spain, 
Mr.  Ferrar  purchased  many  rare  articles  of  curiosity,  many 
scarce  and  valuable  books,  and  learned  treatises  in  the  languages 
of  those  different  countries.  In  collecting  which  he  certainly  had 
a  principal  eye  to  those  which  treated  the  subjects  of  a  spiritual 
life,  devotion,  and  religious  retirement.  He  bought  also  a  very 
great  number  of  prints  engraved  by  the  best  masters  of  that 
time ;  all  relative  to  historical  passages  of  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
tament. Indeed  he  let  nothing  of  this  sort  that  was  valuable 
escape  him.  And  this  great  treasure  of  rarities,  books,  and 
prints,  upon  his  return  home,  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  were 
safely  arrived  there  before  him. 

Very  little  indeed  of  this  treasure  is  now  remaining.  The 
Ferrar  family  being  firm  in  their  loyalty  to  the  king,  their  house 
at  Gidding  was  plundered  in  the  civil  wars ;  and  in  a  wanton  de- 
vastation, all  these  things  perished,  except  some  of  the  prints,  not 
of  great  value,  still  in  possession  of  the  editor. 

It  now  comes  in  the  order  of  time  to  speak  of  the  great  hand 
which  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  had,  immediately  after  his  return,  in  the 
management  of  the  affairs  of  the  Virginia  company;  in  which. 
by  his  prudent  conduct,  he  got  through  many  and  great  diffi- 
culties with  high  credit  and  reputation.  From  this  relation  it 
will  appear  what  great  power  Gondomar f  the  Spanish  ambassador 
thru  had  in  England;  and  how  by  his  extraordinary  craft  and 

1  Gondomar.]  Don  Diego  Sarmiento  de  Acuna,  Conde  de  Gondomar.     It 

is  needless  to  say  here  any  thing  of  his  great  influence  over  James.     \\  I 

have  seen  (p.  83)  that  during  all  the  course  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  she  would 

hold  no  dip'.HiMtir  ,  with  Spain.     Elizabeth  and  Philip  held  each 

id's  point. 


various  intrigues  he  in  the  end  wrought  upon  a  weak  prince  to 
suppress  one  of  the  most  flourishing  companies  for  commerce  in 
England.  And  it  may  possibly  give  the  reader  some  satisfaction 
to  see  some  of  his  subtle  proceedings  here  unravelled ;  as  this 
affair  is  hardly  touched  by  any  other  author  2. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Ferrar's  return,  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  who  had 
heard  a  high  character  of  him  from  many  who  had  known  him  in 
Italy,  sought  his  acquaintance ;  and  being  exceedingly  taken  with 
his  great  abilities,  took  the  first  opportunity  to  make  him  known 
to  the  earl  of  Southampton,  and  the  other  principal  members  of 
the  Virginia  company.  In  a  very  little  time  he  was  made  one  of 
a  particular  committee  in  some  business  of  great  importance ; 
whereby  the  company  having  sufficient  proof  of  his  extraordinary 
abilities,  at  the  next  general  court  it  was  proposed  and  agreed 
that  he  should  be  king^s  counsel 3  for  the  Virginia  plantation  in 
the  place  of  his  brother  John,  who  was  then  made  the  deputy 
governor.  And  when  his  name,  according  to  custom,  was  entered 
in  the  lord  chamberlain's  book,  sir  Edwyn  Sandys  took  care  to 
acquaint  that  lord  with  his  uncommon  worth ;  which  indeed  daily 
more  and  more  appeared  in  every  thing  he  undertook  :  and  as  he 
wanted  no  ability,  so  he  spared  no  diligence  in  ordering  all  their 
affairs  of  consequence.  And  thus  he  became  deeply  engaged  in 
cares  of  a  public  nature.  Yet  his  own  inclinations  at  his  return 
led  him  rather  to  think  of  settling  himself  again  at  Cambridge, 
to  which  he  was  the  more  induced,  as  he  still  held  the  physic 
fellowship  in  Clare  Hall.  But  this  he  now  saw  could  not  be  done. 
Besides,  his  parents,  now  grown  old,  requested  their  beloved  son 
to  remain  with  them.  Therefore  all  he  could  obtain  in  this  re- 
spect from  them,  and  from  his  business,  was  the  liberty  now  and 
then  to  pass  a  few  days  with  his  old  acquaintance  and  friends  still 
remaining  in  Cambridge. 

At  this  time,  J619,  Mr.  Henry  Briggs,  the  celebrated  mathe- 
matician and  reader  of  Geometry  at  Gresham  college,  and  one  of 
the  Virginia  company,  being  about  to  leave  London,  and  settle  at 

2  By  any  other  author.']  [This  was  said  about  the  year  1654.] 

3  King's  counsel.']  It  is  very  probable  that,  in  this  capacity,  Nicholas  Ferrar 
had  more  than  a  share  in  drawing  up  the  following  work,  which  is  very  rare, 
but  of  which  a  copy  is  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.     "  A  Declaration 
of  the  State  of  the  Colony  and  Affaires  in  Virginia,  with  the  Names  of  the  Ad- 
venturers and  Summes  adventured  in  that  Action.     By  His  Maiesties  Counseil 
for  Virginia,  22  Junii,  1620."    4to. 


Oxford  as  Savilian  professor  there,  recommended  it  to  the  Mer- 
cers' company,  who  had  the  gift  of  that  professorship,  that  they 
should  by  all  means  offer  the  place  to  Mr.  Ferrar  upon  his  own 
terms,  saying,  that  he  was  the  ablest  proficient  he  knew  in  that 
science.  The  offer  was  made  accordingly,  which  he  modestly 
declined,  saying  his  friend  Mr.  Briggs  was  much  mistaken  in  him, 
and  that  his  affection  and  goodness  to  him  had  misled  his  judg- 
ment. He  therefore  prayed  them  to  appoint  some  more  worthy 
person ;  but  that  for  himself  though  he  declined  the  intended 
honour,  he  would  always  be  ready  to  serve  the  city  of  London, 
and  the  magnificent  foundation  of  sir  Thomas  Gresham,  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power. 

While  sir  Edwyn  Sandys  continued  governor,  the  reputation 
of  the  Virginia  company  rose  very  high  under  his  prudent  ma- 
nagement. But  having  now  served  his  year,  and  being  by  the 
general  voice  intended  to  have  been  elected  again,  by  some  secret 
power  at  court,  all  the  measures  were  broken  that  had  been  before 
taken  for  that  purpose. 

It  was  appointed  by  the  charter  of  the  company  that  there 
should  be  every  year  in  Easter  term  a  new  election  of  a  treasurer 
or  governor,  and  a  deputy,  and  that  no  man  should  hold  either  of 
those  places  more  than  three  years.  This  election  was  now 
intended  to  be  made  by  ballot,  a  method  introduced  by  sir  Ed- 
wyn Sandys,  as  most  likely  to  secure  a  free  election.  A  general 
court  day  being  appointed,  and  the  day  and  hour  of  election  being 
come,  there  were  assembled  near  upon  twenty  great  peers  of  the 
land  ;  near  a  hundred  of  the  most  eminent  knights  of  the  king- 
dom ;  of  gallant  gentlemen  many  colonels  and  captains,  and 
renowned  lawyers  near  a  hundred  more ;  and  of  the  most  worthy 
citizens  a  very  respectable  assembly.  So  that  the  court  consisted 
of  near  five  hundred  persons  of  several  ranks,  and  quality. 
Every  thing  being  prepared,  the  three  persons  who  were  to  be 
candidates  for  the  place  of  governor  were  now  to  be  named  by  tin- 
company.  The  three  persons  being  agreed  upon,  the  name  of 
sir  Kdwyn  Sandys  was  first  set  up,  and  as  this  was  doing,  a  lord 
of  the  bed-chamber  and  another  courtier  stood  up,  and  declared 
to  the  court  that  it  was  the  king's  pleasure  not  to  have  sir  Edwyn 
lys  chosen ;  and  because  he  would  not  infringe  their  right  of 
election,  he  would  nominate  three  persons,  and  permit  the  com- 
pany to  choose  one  of  them. 

At  this  unexpected  message  there  was  for  a  considerable  time 


a  deep  silence,  every  man  present  standing  in  amazement  at  this 
violent  invasion  of  their  rights,  this  breach  of  their  charter,  and 
stretch  of  tyrannic  power.  At  length  some  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  hall  stood  up,  and  prayed  that  the  courtiers  having  delivered 
their  message,  and  consequently  having  nothing  more  to  say, 
might  withdraw,  till  the  company  had  resolved  what  to  do. 

The  earl  of  Southampton  (Henry  Wriothesley)  then  stood  up 
and  said,  "  For  my  part,  gentlemen,  I  like  not  this  motion  :  let 
the  noble  gentlemen  if  they  please  keep  their  places,  and  sit  and 
hear  the  opinions  of  the  company,  that  so  they  may  be  both  ear 
and  eye  witnesses  of  our  actions,  and  words,  and  may  themselves 
by  these  means  truly  inform  his  majesty  of  our  fair  and  justifia- 
ble way  of  proceeding  in  this  weighty  business :  a  business  of  the 
highest  concernment  both  in  respect  of  his  majesty,  and  in  respect 
of  the  company.  In  respect  of  his  majesty,  whom  we  know  to 
be  so  just  a  king,  that  he  may  understand  what  privileges  he  hath 
granted  us  by  his  letters  patent,  under  the  great  seal  of  England : 
on  the  credit  and  authority  of  which  letters,  we  have  advanced 
and  adventured  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  of  our  own  estates  : 
and  in  respect  of  the  company,  who  have  gained  so  hopeful  a 
country,  which  they  have  bought,  and  compounded  for  with  the 
natives,  and  which  when  once  well  peopled  by  English  colonies, 
will  find  full  employment  for  all  needy  people  in  this  land,  who 
now  begin  to  swarm  in  this  blessed  time  of  peace  under  his  ma- 
jesty's happy  reign  ;  will  provide  estates  likewise  for  all  the 
younger  brothers,  gentlemen  of  this  kingdom ;  and  also  a  ready 
and  lasting  supply  to  this  nation  of  those  commodities  which  in 
our  present  condition  we  are  fain  to  fetch  from  foreign  nations, 
from  doubtful  friends,  yea  from  heathen  princes.  These  circum- 
stances, I  say,  fairly  considered,  make  this  a  business  of  so  great 
concernment,  that  it  can  never  be  too  solemnly,  too  thoroughly, 
or  too  publicly  examined." 

Lord  Southampton  having  thus  spoken  sat  down,  and  after 
some  silence  sir  Laurence  Hyde,  the  learned  lawyer,  next  rose 
up  and  said,  "  May  it  please  this  honourable  society,  I  for  my 
part  not  only  agree  to  that  motion  now  made  by  the  noble  earl 
who  spoke  last,  but  also  desire  the  company  not  only  to  permit, 
but  even  to  intreat  these  worthy  messengers  of  the  king  to  stay 
in  our  court,  and  I  will  be  thus  farther  bold  to  break  the  ice, 
and  to  give  you  my  opinion  that  the  first  step  we  ought  to  take 
in  this  serious  business  now  in  hand  should  be  to  cause  the 


patent,  as  the  foundation  of  all  our  proceedings,  to  be  here  imme- 
diately produced,  and  read,  before  this  honourable  assembly,  and 
these  worthy  gentlemen  the  king's  messengers.  And  then  both 
we  and  they  shall  all  soon  be  satisfied  in  the  extent  of  our  pri- 
vileges, and  in  the  strength  of  his  majesty's  grant,  which  he  hath 
made  to  us  under  the  great  seal  of  England,  and  under  the  hand 
and  honour  of  a  king." 

Thereupon,  all  instantly  cried  out,  uThe  patent !  The  patent ! 
God  save  the  king."  The  patent  was  then  openly  and  distinctly 
read  by  the  secretary. 

After  which  sir  Laurence  Hyde  stood  up  again  and  said, 
"Gentlemen,  I  pray  you  all  to  observe  well  the  words  of  the 
patent  in  the  point  of  electing  a  governor.  You  see  it  is  thereby 
left  to  your  own  free  choice.  This  I  take  it  is  so  very  plain  and 
evident  that  we  shall  not  need  to  say  any  thing  more  to  it.  And 
no  doubt  these  gentlemen,  when  we  shall  have  done  our  duty, 
and  they  depart,  will  give  his  majesty  a  just  information  of  tin- 
case,  and  undeceive  him  in  the  unjust  misrepresentations  which 
have  been  given  him  in  this  point." 

The  rest  of  the  many  lawyers  who  were  there  concurred  in 
opinion  with  sir  Laurence  Hyde,  and  the  court  voted  that  they 
should  now  immediately  proceed  to  election.  When  a  friend  of 
sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  sir  Robert  Phillips,  who  sat  behind  him,  and 
to  whom  sir  Edwyn  had  whispered,  stood  up  and  craved  of  them 
before  they  proceeded,  to  hear  him  a  word,  or  two,  and  then  said. 

u  I  shall  consent  that  we  go  to  an  election  out  of  hand,  because 
it  is  the  business  of  the  day,  and  if  we  do  it  not  now,  we  may 
thereby  in  my  opinion  forfeit  our  patent;  and  also  that  we  in.iv 
liy  so  doing  shew  our  duty  to  the  king,  in  order  to  satisfy  him  in 
all  that  we  may  :  which,  as  I  am  instructed  by  this  worthy  gen- 
tleman your  late  governor,  may  be  done,  if  you  will  out  of  your 
own  judgments,  at  present  forbear  to  set  up  his  name  (whom  I 
perceive  you  all  think  and  know  most  worthy  to  be  continued  in 
that  office)  and  put  up  two  or  three  names  of  the  persons  reomn- 
niendrd  l.y  his  majesty.  And  let  these  managers  tlicm>«  l\c>.  if 
they  think  fit,  nominate  which  two  they  please.  And  in  order  in 
some  degree  to  preserve  your  own  privileges,  do  you  then  name  a 
third  person.  And  then  let  all  these  three  names  be  set  upon 
thr  balloting  box,  and  so  go  to  the  election  in  (Jod's  nann-.  and 
li-t  hi-,  \\ill  In-  don.-." 

Thriviipon  with  a   <n-n<-ral   acclamation,  not   one  WMC6   a-^ain-t 


it,  the  whole  court  cried  out  "  Southampton !  Southampton !" 
At  which  my  lord  of  Southampton  rose  up  to  speak.  But  they 
again  cried  out,  "The  time  is  almost  past,  we  most  humbly 
beseech  your  lordship  not  to  interrupt  our  proceedings." 

The  king's  messengers  then  said,  they  must  confess  that  the 
company  proceeded  wisely ;  and  that  if  they  had  the  nomination 
of  two  out  of  three,  as  sir  Robert  Phillips  proposed,  they  doubted 
not  but  his  majesty  would  be  satisfied.  For  as  sir  Edwyn  Sandys 
had  wisely  waved  his  interest,  if  the  king  desired  no  more  than 
that  he  might  not  be  chosen,  the  course  proposed  to  be  taken 
was  likely  to  please  him.  And  so  they  proceeded  to  the  ballot ; 
when  of  the  two  persons  nominated  by  the  king's  messengers,  one 
of  them  had  only  one  ball,  and  the  other  but  two.  The  earl  of 
Southampton  had  all  the  rest.  Lord  Southampton  then  took 
the  chair,  and  they  proceeded  to  the  choice  of  a  deputy,  when  Mr. 
John  Ferrar  was  chosen  by  the  same  majority ;  of  that  large 
company,  consisting  of  near  five  hundred  persons,  only  three 
dissenting.  And  thus  began  the  year  1620. 

The  earl  of  Southampton,  now  elected  governor  of  the  Virginia 
company,  had  a  particular  friendship  with  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and 
took  this  office  conditionally  that  his  friend  should  continue  his 
advice  and  assistance  in  the  business  of  the  company.  So  that 
there  were  now  three  very  able  men  engaged,  lord  Southampton, 
sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar.  Lord  Southampton 
celebrated  for  wisdom,  eloquence,  and  sweet  deportment ;  sir 
Edwyn  Sandys  for  great  knowledge,  and  integrity ;  and  Nicholas 
Ferrar  for  wonderful  abilities,  unwearied  diligence,  and  the 
strictest  virtue. 

The  latter  was  now  fully  employed  in  drawing  up  instructions 
concerning  all  the  various  business  respecting  the  plantation,  in 
writing  all  letters  of  advice  to  the  colony  in  Virginia,  and  in 
being  constantly  one  in  every  committee.  Which  instructions 
and  letters  being  always  read  in  the  open  courts,  gained  him 
universal  approbation.  The  civilians,  the  common  lawyers,  the 
divines,  (of  which  last  dean  Williams,  afterwards  bishop  of  Lin- 
coln4, was  one)  who  attended  these  courts,  when  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Ferrar's  performances,  all  spoke  of  him  in  highest  terms  of 
commendation.  The  merchants  and  tradesmen,  when  he  had 

4  Bishop  of  Lincoln^]  John  Williams,  afterwards  lord  keeper  and  archbishop 
of  York,  of  whom  see  more  in  the  Life  of  Bishop  Hall. 


occasion  to  speak  of  their  matters,  even  the  sea  officers,  and 
mariners,  when  he  gave  directions  about  the  victualling  and  order- 
ing the  ships  or  other  naval  affairs,  all  were  in  the  highest  admi- 
ration of  his  abilities  and  accurate  knowledge  of  every  thing 
relating  to  their  respective  professions.  And  now  under  the 
management  and  direction  of  lord  Southampton,  sir  Edwyn 
Sandys,  and  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  affairs  of  the  Virginia  plan- 
tation were  soon  in  the  most  flourishing  situation. 

At  this  time  there  was  in  London  a  Mr.  Copeland,  a  minister 
in  the  Somers  Islands,  who  contracted  a  great  intimacy  with 
Mr.  Ferrar.  He  was  a  worthy  man,  and  very  zealous  for  the 
conversion  of  the  infidel  natives  of  America.  He  had  many  con- 
ferences with  Mr.  Ferrar  upon  this  subject,  and  the  best  way  and 
means  to  effect  it ;  and  he  seriously  informed  sir  E.  Sandys  and 
others  of  the  company,  that  he  verily  believed  Mr.  Ferrar  was 
determined  some  time  to  leave  the  whole  world,  and  settle  in 
Virginia ;  and  there  employ  the  extraordinary  talents  with  which 
God  had  blessed  him,  and  spend  his  life  in  the  conversion  of  the 
natives,  or  other  infidels  in  that  country :  adding,  "  If  he  should 
do  so,  I  will  never  forsake  him,  but  wait  upon  him  in  that  glorious 
work."  This  I  think  is  a  strong  presumptive  proof,  that  notwith- 
standing Mr.  Ferraris  great  abilities  in  different  occupations,  and 
his  wonderful  proficiency  in  various  acquisitions  of  science,  and 
other  accomplishments,  yet  that  the  peculiar  bent,  and  deter- 
mination of  his  mind  was  uniformly  given  to  the  promotion  of  the 
Christian  religion. 

At  this  time  (April,  1620)  died  Mr.  Ferrar  the  father,  who 
made  his  son  Nicholas  his  sole  executor ;  which  was  a  great  addi- 
tion to  the  business  already  lying  upon  him  :  but  he  had  abilities 
equal  to  any  thing,  and  to  every  thing ;  with  firmness  of  mind  and 
integrity  equal  to  his  ability.  Mr.  Ferrar  sen.  by  his  will  gave 
300J.  towards  erecting  a  school  or  college  in  Virginia  for  the 
better  education  of  such  infidel  children  as  should  be  there  con- 
verted to  the  Christian  religion.  He  was  buried  in  the  church  of 
I  Jennet  Sherhog,  April  11,  and  his  old  friend  Dr.  Francis 
White,  whom  he  brought  from  the  obscurity  of  the  country  into 
a  more  public  life,  preached  his  funeral  sermon  to  a  crouded 
audience;  in  which  he  described  him  as  a  second  Nathaniel.— 
"an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  was  no  guile." 

Tin-  Virginia  plantation,  now  under  the  government  of  the  earl 
•  •1*  Southampton,  became  every  day  oHi^ier  reputation,  and  tin- 


affairs  of  the  company  in  consequence  every  day  of  more  weighty 
importance.  So  that  Mr.  Ferrar,  both  as  counsel 5  to  the  com- 
pany, and  assistant  also  to  his  brother  as  deputy  governor,  was 
pressed  by  a  double  weight  of  care :  as  the  company  would  not 
permit  the  deputy  to  resign  till  he  had  executed  his  office  three 
years;  which  he  did  1619,  under  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and  1620, 
1621,  under  the  earl  of  Southampton. 

But  now  the  increasing  fame  of  this  company,  and  the  wise 
management  of  it  was  carried  into  Spain,  and  caused  no  small 
alarm.  The  politicians  there  saw,  or  pretended  to  see  danger  in 
the  course  of  not  many  years.  Virginia  was  too  near  them,  both 
by  sea  and  land :  and  they  did  not  know  but  the  people  of  that 
plantation,  when  once  a  little  settled,  might  perhaps  be  looking 
over  the  hills,  and  at  length  spy  out  their  rich  mines.  Gondomar 
therefore  had  it  in  commission  to  have  a  special  eye  upon  the 
company,  and  the  managers  of  their  affairs.  And  he  was  indeed 
a  vigilant  observer  of  his  instructions.  He  not  only  gained  an 
absolute  influence  over  the  king,  but  many  great  men  about  him, 
whom  he  had  bought  with  Spanish  money  :  these  were  very 
powerful,  and  well  known  at  court  by  the  name  of  the  Spanish 

Gondomar  and  the  king  had  now  agreed  upon  the  destruction 
of  the  Virginia  company.  Notice  of  their  dishonourable  designs 
was  given  to  lord  Southampton  and  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  by  the 
marquis  of  Hamilton  and  the  earl  of  Pembroke ;  who  privately 
warned  them  to  look  well  to  themselves,  and  their  proceedings, 
for  that  many  stratagems  were  now  in  train,  and  would  be  pushed 
to  the  utmost  to  procure  the  destruction  of  the  plantation,  and  to 
ruin  all  persons  who  should  be  employed  in  supporting  the  affairs 
of  the  company. 

This  opportune  advice  produced  a  double  care  and  watchfulness 
in  the  managers,  if  possible,  to  prevent  the  intended  mischief. 
But  it  would  be  endless  here  to  relate  the  many  discouragements, 
the  dark  intrigues,  and  shameful  practices  which  they  now  daily 
met  and  encountered.  These  things  require  another  time  and 
place.  All  that  need  here  be  said  is  that  the  Virginia  business 
was  now  no  pastime,  nor  were  the  managers  in  any  respect  per- 
mitted to  be  idle. 

In  the  Easter  term,  1622,  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  having  been  con- 

6  As  counsel.']  See  p.  155,  note. 

VOL.  IV.  M 


tinued  deputy  governor  three  years,  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  elected 
to  succeed  him.  For  lord  Southampton  plainly  told  the  deputa- 
tion from  the  company,  who  waited  on  him  to  desire  he  would 
consent  to  be  re-elected,  that  if  they  did  not  choose  Mr.  Nicholas 
Ferrar  to  be  the  deputy  governor,  he  could  not  any  longer  take 
the  office  of  governor  upon  him ;  saying  that  he  was  the  only 
person  who  was  able  to  go  through  with  the  business;  and  to 
encounter  all  those  great  and  potent  oppositions,  which  he  knew 
either  were,  or  very  soon  would  be  raised  against  the  company 
and  the  plantation  :  and  that  without  Mr.  Ferraris  assistance  all 
would  fall  to  ruin.  "  You  all,"  he  continued,  "  see,  and  know  his 
abilities  and  his  integrity  as  well  as  I.  On  condition  of  his  being 
deputy,  I  will  be  your  governor:  but  he  must  be  the  person  who 
must  act  both  mine  and  his  own  part  also.  Without  him  I  dare 
not  accept  the  office :  with  him,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  serve  you." 

These  things  being  thus  settled,  the  meetings  at  Mr.  Ferrari 
house  began  again  to  be  crouded,  as  usual;  and  Gondomar 
exerted  double  diligence,  procuring,  by  Spanish  gold,  spies,  who 
informed  him  of  every  thing  that  was  done  at  these  meetings ; 
and,  what  added  greatly  to  his  influence,  the  Spanish  party  at 
court  carried  every  thing  with  a  high  hand. 

Many  shameful  stratagems  were  now  attempted  against  the 
company,  to  throw  their  affairs  into  confusion,  and  to  dishearten 
them  on  all  sides.  Particularly  their  privilege  in  point  of  cus- 
toms (which  was  to  pay  only  5  per  cent.)  was  now  questioned, 
and  15  per  cent,  demanded.  One  Jacobs  also,  who  had  procured 
a  licence  for  importing  Spanish  tobacco,  was  now  employed  and 
supported  by  the  great  men  in  the  pay  of  Gondomar  to  infriiiLrr 
the  company's  patent :  which  encreased  Mr.  Ferraris  trouble  to 
a  great  degree,  and  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  resort  frequently 
to  the  council  table,  and  to  sir  Tho.  Coventry  the  king^s  attorney 

The  hardship  and  the  injustice  put  upon  the  company  in  this 
last  article  only  was  very  great,  as  the  profit  arising  from  Virginia 
tobacco,  was  as  yet  the  only  return  which  the  planters  had  to 
answer  all  their  trouble,  expence,  and  hazard.  For  little  progress 
had  l>«'< -n  mado  in  the  several  plans  of  improvement,  as  the  conse- 
quencM  s  <>!'  tin-  fir>t  massacre*  by  the  savages,  were  not  yet  fully 

•  Thffirtt  matsacre.]  [That  massacre  was  perpetrated  on  Friday,  March  22, 
1621,  at  which  time  the  iavages  killed  347  persons.     There  were  then  mur- 


By  Mr.  Ferrar's  care  and  industry  things  seemed,  notwith- 
standing this  violence  and  injustice,  to  be  getting  again  in  a  fair 
way  towards  a  lasting  settlement.  But  alas  !  the  Spanish  match7 
for  the  prince  was  now  set  on  foot,  and  Gondomar  took  advantage 
of  that  opportunity  to  exert  his  absolute  power  over  the  king ; 
who  meanly  suffered  himself,  in  violation  of  his  patent,  and  the 
honour  of  a  king,  to  be  made  this  crafty  minister's  instrument  to 
effect  the  ruin  of  the  company. 

The  marquis  of  Hamilton  and  the  earl  of  Pembroke  solemnly 
affirmed  to  the  earl  of  Southampton,  that  they  heard  Gondomar 
say  to  the  king,  "  That  it  was  time  for  him  to  look  to  the 
Virginia  courts  which  were  kept  at  the  Ferrars1  house,  where  too 
many  of  his  nobility  and  gentry  resorted  to  accompany  the 
popular  lord  Southampton,  and  the  dangerous  Sandys.  That 
though  they  might  have  a  fair  pretence  for  their  meetings,  yet  he 
would  find  in  the  end  that  court  would  prove  a  seminary  for  a 
seditious  parliament.  That  they  were  deep  politicians,  and  had 
farther  designs  than  a  tobacco  plantation.  That  their  proceed- 
ings in  the  issue  might  cause,  if  not  timely  prevented,  occasions 
of  difference  between  his  majesty,  and  his  master  the  king  of 
Spain.  For  he  had  heard  rumours,  that  once  being  become 
numerous,  they  intended  to  step  beyond  their  limits;  and  for 
aught  he  knew,  they  might  visit  his  masters  mines.  Adding, 
that  he  had  occasion  of  late  to  have  a  conference  with  the 
managers  concerning  a  ship  laden  with  silver,  which  was  cast 
away ;  and  that  he  found  them  subtle  men,  men  of  high  courage, 

dered  at  Mr.  William  Ferrar's  house  these  ten  persons  :  Mr.  John  England, 
and  John  his  servant;  John  Bell,  Henry  Paterson,  and  Alice  his  wife,  and 
William  her  son ;  Thomas  their  servant,  James  Woodshaw,  and  Mary  and 
Elizabeth,  maid-servants.  —  Declaration  of  the  present  State  of  Virginia. 
London,  1622.  4to.  p.  14—37.] 

7  Spanish  match.']  The  infanta  Dona  Maria  had  been  offered  to  prince 
Charles,  by  the  Spanish  minister,  the  duke  of  Lerma,  in  the  lifetime  of  her 
father,  Philip  III.,  and  his  views  were  seconded  by  Gondomar,  the  Spanish, 
and  by  Digby,  the  English  ambassador.  On  the  death  of  Philip,  in  1622, 
James  and  Charles  wrote  to  Philip  IV.  and  to  the  Conde  Duque  de  Olivares, 
his  favourite;  Digby,  created  earl  of  Bristol,  went  to  accelerate  the  negociation; 
Gondomar  returned  to  Spain  for  the  same  purpose,  and  a  favourable  answer 
was  returned  from  Philip,  who  agreed  to  the  marriage  of  his  sister,  and  pro- 
mised to  intercede  in  behalf  of  Frederic,  the  elector  palatine,  the  son-in-law 
of  James.  In  February,  1623,  Charles  and  Buckingham,  attended  only  by 
sir  Francis  Cottington,  Endimion  Porter,  and  sir  Richard  Graham,  proceeded 
on  their  apparently  clandestine  and  pseudo-romantic  expedition  to  Madrid. 

M   2 


men  who  no  way  regarded  either  his  master  or  their  own." 
These  lords  therefore  advised  lord  Southampton  to  be  upon  his 
guard  ;  and  hade  him  and  his  deputy  prepare  for  the  rencounter ; 
for  that  it  would  certainly  come  to  the  push  of  pike ;  and  that 
they  feared,  as  matters  now  stood,  the  company  would  be  dis- 
solved, and  under  some  pretence  or  other  their  patent  taken 
away.  The  creatures  of  Gondomar  also  insinuated  to  the  king, 
that  the  matter  was  too  high  and  great  for  private  men  to 
manage:  that  it  was  therefore  proper  for  the  king  to  take  it 
into  his  own  hand,  and  to  govern  and  order  it  both  at  home  and 
abroad  according  to  his  own  will  and  pleasure. 

After  a  short  time  a  commission  was  granted  by  the  king  to 
some  known  enemies  to  the  company  to  disturb  and  teaze  them 
by  vexatious  examinations.  And  one  captain  Butler,  whom  the 
company  had  removed  from  his  office  for  scandalous  mismanage- 
ment and  injustice,  was  suborned,  and  made  an  instrument  to 
spread  disadvantageous  reports  of  the  country  itself,  as  being 
unfit  to  be  planted,  as  being  extremely  unhealthy,  and  entirely 

Before  these  commissioners  Mr.  Ferrar  often  appeared  in 
defence  of  the  company,  and  exerted  himself  with  such  firmness 
and  force  of  argument,  not  only  face  to  face  to  the  accusers,  but 
by  such  unanswerable  deductions  in  writing,  that  the  commis- 
sioners were  not  able  to  proceed:  all  their  allegations  being 
demonstrated  by  him  to  be  false  and  frivolous.  The  matter 
therefore  was  brought  from  them  before  the  council  table.  And 
then  Mr.  Ferrar,  and  the  company  were  forced  to  attend  there 
twice  or  thrice  a  week  for  half  a  year  together,  in  order  to  weary 
them  out  by  a  vexatious  persecution.  But  notwithstanding  all 
these  infamous  machinations,  nothing  could  be  taken  hold  of  to 
wrest  the  patent  from  the  company.  They  were  often  indeed 
required  to  lay  it  down  ;  but  this  they  refused  to  do. 

At  this  time,  though  there  were  many  able  men  of  the  company 
ready  to  defend  their  just  cause,  yet  the  lords  of  the  council 
insisted  that  the  deputy,  being,  as  they  said,  the  representative 
of  tin-  company,  should  be  the  only  person  to  answer  their  objec- 
tions. And  this  they  did  on  seeing  him  so  young  a  man,  thinking 
from  that  circumstance  to  gain  some  advantage  over  him.  But 
he  answered  them  all  with  that  singular  wisdom  and  modesty, 
that  accurate  knowledge  of  affairs,  that  discretion,  firmness  and 
<-l«M|uciic.-.  that  the  mercenaries  of  Gondomar  were  confounded; 


and  then  by  a  new  and  unexpected  artifice,  and  in  pretended 
admiration  of  his  great  abilities,  said  it  was  pity  but  that  he 
should  be  taken  off  from  his  present  business,  and  employed  in 
public  affairs  of  more  weighty  importance. 

Accordingly  overtures  were  made,  and  a  negociation  entered 
upon  with  lord  Southampton  and  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  to  prevail 
with  them  to  persuade  Mr.  Ferrar  to  accept  the  place  of  clerk 
of  the  council,  or  (leiger)  8  envoy  to  the  duke  of  Savoy,  which 
of  the  two  employments  he  himself  liked  best.  He  modestly 
declined  the  offer,  saying  his  abilities  were  not  sufficient  for  a 
post  of  such  weighty  importance.  His  friends  continued  to  press 
him,  and  he  to  refuse.  At  length  he  told  them  that  he  could  not 
accept  of  such  preferment ;  that  his  thoughts  lay  quite  another 
way.  But  seeing  their  importunity  continue,  he  in  confidence 
to  his  two  great  friends,  and  on  their  promise  of  secrecy,  declared 
to  them  his  solemn  determination,  when  he  should  have  discharged 
the  duties  of  his  present  situation,  to  enter  upon  a  state  of  religious 

The  council  finding  that  the  company  were  still  resolved  not 
to  part  with  their  patent,  or  with  the  liberty  which  they  thereby 
had  to  govern  their  own  affairs,  now  took  a  more  severe  and  not 
less  unjust  course.  They  confined  lord  Southampton  to  his 
house,  that  he  might  not  come  to  the  Virginia  courts,  of  which 
he  was  the  legal  governor.  But  this  only  made  the  company 
more  resolute  in  their  own  just  defence.  They  then  ordered 
sir  Edwin  Sandys  into  a  similar  confinement.  But  this  step  in 
no  degree  abated  the  resolution  of  the  company.  Then  the  lords, 
under  the  influence  of  Gondomar,  strongly  pressed  the  company 
to  give  up  their  patent.  The  marquis  of  Hamilton  and  the  earl 
of  Pembroke  informed  lord  Southampton  and  sir  Edwyn  Sandys 
of  these  proceedings,  saying,  That  Nicholas  Ferrar,  though  now 
left  as  it  were  alone,  was  too  hard  for  all  his  opposers.  "  But," 
continued  they,  "  your  enemies  will  prevail  at  last ;  for  let  the 
company  do  what  they  can,  in  open  defiance  of  honour,  and 
justice,  it  is  absolutely  determined  at  all  events  to  take  away  your 

But  Gondomar  and  his  instruments,  finding  that  their  violent 
measures  had  not  the  desired  effect  upon  the  company,  now 
vehemently  urged  the  king  to  take  the  plantation  into  his  own 

8  Leiger  envoy.']  See  p.  90,  note. 


hands,  as  a  thing  befitting  a  king :  and  particularly  as  being  a 
measure  that  would  be  most  acceptable  to  the  king  of  Spain. 

Still  however  the  same  unjust  persecution  of  the  company  was 
carried  on ;  and  Mr.  Ferrar  still  remained  unanswerable  in  his 
defence.  When  one  day  the  lord  treasurer  Cranfield 9  in  great 
heat  of  passion  told  him,  "  that  he  could  prevail  with  the  company 
if  he  would,  and  they  might  then  obtain  all  that  they  desired." 

Nicholas  Ferrar  then  being  called  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
council  table,  addressed  himself  with  all  humility  to  the  lords, 
and  to  lord  Cranfield  in  particular,  "beseeching  them  in  the 
most  earnest  manner  not  to  entertain  so  vain  an  imagination. 
That  there  were  many  members  of  the  company  much  better 
qualified  than  he  was  to  speak  upon  their  affairs.  Nevertheless, 
that  he  humbly  entreated  their  lordships  to  consider  seriously 
whether,  if  such  a  number  of  the  Virginia  company  as  made  a 
court,  or  whether,  if  all  those  members  who  lived  in  or  near 
London  should  meet  and  assemble  together,  whether  even  all 
these  could  either  in  law  or  equity  give  up  the  patent,  without 
the  previous  consent  of  all  the  rest  of  the  members,  to  the 
number  of  some  thousands  now  dispersed  all  over  England.  And 
these  too  not  persons  of  inferior  rank,  but  persons  of  the  first 
condition,  of  the  nobility,  and  gentry,  of  the  bishops,  and  clergy, 
of  the  chief  citizens,  and  of  the  principal  companies,  and  corpora- 
tions throughout  the  whole  kingdom.  Besides  these,  all  the 
planters  also  in  Virginia,  who  were  all  included  in  the  grant,  and 
who  all  upon  the  encouragement,  and  promised  protection  of  the 
king,  under  the  great  seal  of  England,  and  the  pledge  of  his  royal 
word  and  honour,  adventured  their  estates,  and  many  of  them 
even  their  lives  in  this  the  greatest  and  most  honourable  under- 
taking in  which  England  had  ever  been  engaged.  He  represented 
also  the  great  good  which  in  numberless  sources  of  wealth  and 
strength,  would  by  means  of  this  corporation,  and  through  the 
encouragement  of  their  care,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  shortly 
accrue  to  this  nation.  And  he  again  and  again  most  earnestly 
besought  their  lordships  to  take  all  these  things  into  their  most 

9  Cranfield.']  Lionel  Cranfield,  afterwards  earl  of  Middlesex.  It  is  worthy 
of  remark  that  his  daughter  and  heiress,  Frances,  married  Richard,  sixth  earl 
•  if  1  >orset,  the  son  of  that  Edward  Sackville  to  whom,  for  safe  custody,  were 
committed  (see  p.  179)  the  copies  of  the  books  and  papers  of  the  Virginia 
Company  which  he  (the  lord  treasurer  Cranfield)  laboured  so  sedulously  to 


serious  consideration;  and  no  longer  to  urge  them,  not  the 
twentieth  part  of  the  persons  interested,  to  do  an  action  which 
was  in  itself  both  unjust  and  unreasonable,  and  indeed  impossible 
for  them  to  do.  For  how  could  they  pretend  to  give  away  and 
yield  up  the  rights,  and  interests  of  other  men,  without  the 
consent  of  the  parties  interested  first  obtained.  And  in  the 
most  solemn  manner  he  adjured  their  lordships  not  to  make  them 
the  instruments  of  doing  so  vile  a  thing,  to  which,  if  they  con- 
sented, they  should  render  themselves  worthy  of  the  severest 
punishment.  Besides,  he  said,  it  is  worthy  your  lordships1  farther 
consideration,  how  far  such  a  precedent  may  possibly  operate, 
and  how  dangerous  such  an  example  may  be,  if  only  a  twentieth 
part  of  any  company  should  presume,  or  should  be  permitted  to 
deliver  up  the  liberties  and  privileges,  the  rights,  and  the  pro- 
perty of  the  other  nineteen  parts,  and  that  without  so  much  as 
once  calling  them  together  to  give  their  consent.  This,  he  con- 
tinued, was  what  the  company  now  assembled  must  refuse  as  a 
thing  unjust,  and  not  feasible  for  them  to  do." 

The  lord  treasurer  upon  his  discoursing  thus,  being  inflamed 
with  violent  passion,  often  interrupted  him,  and  so  did  some 
others.  But  the  marquis  of  Hamilton,  the  earl  of  Pembroke, 
and  some  other  lords  of  the  council  said,  "  Nay,  my  good  lords, 
forbear.  Let  him  make  an  end.  We  have  called  him  hither  to 
know  what  he  can  say  on  the  company's  behalf.  Let  us  there- 
fore not  interrupt  him  ;  it  is  but  reasonable  to  hear  him  out. 
Mr.  deputy,  go  on."" 

Mr.  Ferrar,  with  the  most  respectful  humility  then  said, 
"  Most  honourable  lords,  I  was  just  on  the  point  of  concluding. 
I  will  add  only  this,  that  as  for  my  own  private  interest,  and  the 
interest  of  many  here  present,  and  of  many  others  who  are  absent, 
my  lords,  we  all  most  humbly  cast  ourselves,  and  our  estates  at 
his  majesty's  royal  feet :  let  him  do  with  us  and  with  them,  if  so 
he  be  determined,  what  seemeth  best  unto  his  good  will  and  plea- 
sure. For  as  to  what  is  really  our  own,  and  in  us  to  give,  we 
submit  it  all  to  his  majesty's  disposal ;  and  in  all  other  things  we 
shall  endeavour  to  serve  and  please  him  in  all  that  with  a  con- 
science unhurt  we  may  :  desiring  only  this,  that  with  respect  to 
the  rights  and  property  of  others,  we  may  be  permitted  to  execute 
the  trust  reposed  in  us,  with  fidelity  and  honour,  and  to  discharge 
religiously  those  duties,  which,  as  they  are  of  the  first  importance, 
ought  to  have  the  first  influence  upon  the  mind  of  man.''1 


Then  the  marquis  of  Hamilton  stood  up,  and  with  a  loud  voice 
said,  "  Mr.  deputy,  in  my  opinion,  my  lords,  hath  spoken  well, 
excellently  well  both  for  himself,  and  for  the  company.  And 
what,  my  lords,  can  we  now  desire  more  of  him  ?"  The  earl  of 
Pembroke  seconded  lord  Hamilton,  and  said,  "  Surely,  my  lords, 
1  hope  the  king  (if  he  shall  hear  all)  will  be  satisfied  with  what 
we  have  done,  but  particularly  with  what  we  have  now  heard. 
Let  us  fairly  report  it  to  him,  and  then  let  his  majesty  do  what 
he  thinks  most  proper.  We  have  sat  a  long  time  upon  this  busi- 
ness, and  at  length  we  may  conjecture  the  result." 

Gondomar  with  his  profligate  instruments,  the  king,  and  the 
Spanish  party  at  court,  perceiving  that  Mr.  Ferrar  (having  de- 
monstrated all  their  allegations  to  be  false  and  groundless)  had 
rendered  all  their  violence  ineffectual,  now  had  recourse  to  a 
different  mode  of  proceeding.  They  suborned,  and  procured  per- 
sons to  bring  forward  a  crimination  against  him  ;  who  came  and 
exhibited  in  form  a  complaint  to  the  council  board.  The  sub- 
stance of  the  accusation  was  this,  That  the  deputy,  during  the 
times  of  his  appearing  before  the  council,  had  drawn  up  and  sent 
to  the  governor  and  plantation  of  Virginia  certain  dangerous 
instructions,  and  inflammatory  letters  of  advice,  directing  them 
how  they  should  conduct  themselves  in  standing  to  their  patent, 
and  exhorting  them  that  they  should  never  give  their  consent  to 
let  it  be  delivered  up.  And  therefore  that  if  these  letters  and 
instructions  were  not  countermanded  by  their  lordships,  some 
very  ill  consequence  might  ensue,  and  the  king  might  thereby 
receive  much  dishonour. 

As  soon  as  this  pretended  complaint  was  lodged  in  form,  in- 
stantly, though  it  was  then  very  late  at  night,  some  pursuivants, 
who  were  kept  in  readiness  for  that  purpose,  were  dispatched  in 
all  haste  to  Mrs.  Ferraris  house  to  speak  with  the  deputy,  and  to 
command  him  without  any  delay  immediately  to  deliver  up  to 
them,  all  those  books  of  the  Virginia  company  wherein  v 
registered  the  copies  of  all  such  letters  and  instructions  as  had 
been  sent  to  the  plantation  from  the  council  or  company  here. 

Mr.  Ferrar  told  them  that  the  secretary  of  the  Virginia  cmn- 
j ,  and  not  he,  had  the  keeping  of  those  books.  They  then 
rerpiin  <1  him  to  give  them  a  note  to  the  secretary  to  deliver  them. 
But  he  excused  himself,  saying,  "  Surely  your  commission  will  be 
a  better  authority  for  him  to  do  so,  than  any  note  which  I  can 
send  him.  For  my  own  part,  if  I  had  the  company's  evidences 


in  my  possession,  entrusted  to  my  custody,  I  certainly  would  not 
deliver  them  up,  unless  I  had  their  leave,  and  express  order  so  to 
do."  When  he  said  this  they  left  him,  and  went  to  the  secretary, 
and  forced  him  to  deliver  up  the  books  to  them. 

The  next  day  the  deputy,  and  many  lords  and  gentlemen  con- 
cerned in  the  company,  were  summoned  to  attend  at  the  council 
table.  For  the  accusers  of  the  company  had  given  it  out  pub- 
licly, that  now  very  strange  things  indeed  would  be  discovered  in 
these  books  and  instructions,  and  brought  forth  to  public  view. 
On  this  account  there  was  a  very  numerous  attendance,  and  all 
the  lords  of  the  council  also  were  particularly  summoned  to 

When  the  council  was  met,  the  deputy  (as  heretofore)  was 
commanded  to  come  to  the  upper  end  of  the  table.  Then  the 
accusers  of  the  company  desired  of  the  lords  that  one  of  the 
clerks  of  the  council  might  read  such  and  such  letters  and  instruc- 
tions written  in  such  and  such  months.  Some  of  which  being- 
read,  the  lords  of  the  council  looked  upon  one  another  with 
evident  marks  of  astonishment ;  observing  that  there  was  nothing 
of  that  dangerous  consequence  in  those  papers,  which  the  accusers 
had  informed  them  they  would  discover  ;  but  on  the  contrary 
much  matter  of  high  commendation.  "  Point  out,"  said  one 
lord,  "  where  is  the  fault  or  error  in  these  letters  and  instructions ; 
for  my  own  part  I  must  say  that  I  cannot  see  any." 

The  enemies  of  the  company  then  prayed  their  lordships  to 
hear  them  all  read  out ;  and  then  they  said  it  would  soon  appear 
where  the  faults  lay.  "  Yea,  yea,"  said  the  lord  treasurer  with 
vehemence,  "  read  on,  read  on :  we  shall  anon  find  them."  So 
they  still  persisted  to  read.  And  in  a  word,  so  much  patience 
had  the  lords,  or  rather  so  much  pleasure,  that  many  of  them 
said  they  thought  their  time  had  been  well  spent.  All  these 
letters  and  instructions  being  in  the  end  thus  read  out,  and  no- 
thing at  all  appearing  which  was  any  ways  disadvantageous  to  the 
company,  but  on  the  contrary  very  much  to  their  credit  and 
honour :  the  marquis  of  Hamilton  stood  up,  and  said,  "  That 
there  was  one  letter  which  he  prayed  might  be  read  over  again, 
on  which  he  should  desire  to  make  a  few  observations."  Which 
being  accordingly  done,  "Well!"  said  he,  "  my  lords,  we  have 
spent  many  hours  here,  in  hearing  all  these  letters  and  instruc- 
tions, and  yet  I  could  not  help  requesting  to  hear  this  one  letter 
over  again ;  because  I  think  that  all  your  lordships  must  agree 


with  me  that  it  is  absolutely  a  master-piece.  And  indeed  they 
are  all  in  high  degree  excellent.  Truly,  my  lords,  we  have  this 
day  lost  no  time  at  all.  For  I  do  assure  you  that  if  our  attend- 
ance here  were  for  many  days,  I  for  my  part  would  willingly  n't 
them  out  to  hear  so  pious,  so  wise,  and  indeed  politic  instructions 
as  these  are.  They  are  papers  as  admirably  well  penned  as  any  I 
ever  heard.  And,  I  believe,  if  the  truth  were  known,  your  lord- 
ships are  all  of  the  same  opinion.'1 

The  earl  of  Pembroke  said,  "  There  is  not  one  thing  in  them 
all,  which,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  deserves  in  the  least  degree  to  be 
excepted  against.  On  the  contrary  they  all  deserve  the  highest 
commendation  :  containing  advices  far  more  excellent  than  I 
could  have  expected  to  have  met  with  in  the  letters  of  a  trading 
company.  For  they  abound  with  soundness  of  good  matter,  and 
profitable  instruction  with  respect  both  to  religion  and  policy ;  and 
they  possess  uncommon  elegance  of  language."  Many  other  lords 
concurred  in  these  commendations,  and  at  length  one,  addressing 
himself  to  Mr.  Ferrar,  said,  u  Mr.  deputy,  I  pray  you  tell  us 
who  penned  these  letters  and  instructions,  we  have  some  reason 
to  think  it  was  yourself." 

Mr.  Ferrar,  whose  modesty  and  humility  were  not  inferior  to 
his  other  rare  accomplishments,  replied,  "  My  lord,  these  arc  the 
letters  and  instructions  of  the  company,  and  the  council  of  the 
company.  For  in  all  weighty  affairs  they  order  several  commit- 
tees to  make  each  a  rough  draught  of  what  they  judge  proper  to 
be  done  in  these  matters :  which  rough  draughts  are  afterward  all 
put  together,  and  presented  first  to  the  council,  and  then  to  t lie- 
company  to  receive  all  proper  alteration,  as  they  shall  please. 
And  thus  every  thing  is  drawn  up  and  concluded  upon  the  advice 
of  many."  After  due  commendation  of  his  modesty  as  well  as 
his  ability,  it  was  replied  to  him,  "  Mr.  deputy,  that  th« •>«• 
papers  before  us  are  the  production  of  one  pen,  is  very  plainly 
discernible  :  they  are  jewels  that  all  come  out  of  one  rich  cabim-t. 
of  which  we  have  undoubted  reason  to  believe  that  you  aiv  the 
true  possessor." 

The  lords  under  the  influence  of  Gondomar  were  now  abashed 
and  silrnt ;  only  one  of  them  said  to  the  accusers  of  the  company. 
•  What  strange  and  unaccountable  measures  are  these  that  you 
have  taken  !  to  have  called  us  together,  and  to  make  us  sit  and 
hear  all  these  things  uhich  are  entirely  opposite  to  your  O\MI 
information-,  and  which  meet,  as  you  find,  with  universal  appro- 


bation."  To  which  one  man  of  a  bold  spirit  replied,  "  We  shall 
still  in  the  end  carry  our  point.  These,  my  good  lord,  are  not  the 
letters  and  instructions  which  we  meant.  The  company  have 
others  no  doubt  in  private,  which  they  secrete,  and  which  if  they 
could  now  be  found,  would  quickly  silence  them.  We  have  lately 
heard  of  things  passing  in  their  courts  which  would  surprize  you." 
On  which  one  of  the  council  rose  and  said,  ;c  My  lords,  such 
malevolence  and  injustice  is  unequalled  :  such  proceedings  are  not 
to  be  endured.  But  unprincipled  malice  has  a  face  too  brazen  to 
be  ashamed  of  any  thing."  The  lords  then  rose,  and  the  adver- 
saries of  the  company  were  much  confounded,  having  now  with 
all  honest  and  impartial  men  entirely  lost  all  credit. 

The  very  night  after  this  meeting,  one  of  the  clerks  of  the 
council  came  to  Lord  Southampton  and  told  him  that  his  deputy 
had  that  day  gained  a  most  complete  victory,  and  had  extorted 
the  highest  commendations  even  from  the  lords  of  the  adverse 
party  :  and  it  was  supposed  that  proposals  would  be  made  to  him 
to  engage  in  the  king's  immediate  service.  u  But  for  all  that,  my 
lord,"  said  he,  "  depend  upon  it,  such  the  times  are.  your  patent 
is  irretrievably  gone." 

Lord  Southampton  communicated  this  information  to  the  lords 
and  gentlemen  interested  in  the  company,  saying,  "  You  all 
well  know  that  those  things  which  our  enemies  thought  would 
have  been  to  their  advantage,  and  our  damage,  have  hitherto  all 
turned  out  to  our  credit  and  to  our  honour  :  nevertheless,  all  will 
not  help  us.  It  is  determined  that  our  patent  shall  be  taken 
away,  and  the  company  dissolved.  The  king,  I  find,  has  resolved 
to  have  the  management  of  the  plantation  in  his  own  hands,  to 
direct,  and  govern  as  he  sees  best.  A  thing  indeed  worthy  a 
king's  care :  but,  alas  !  alas !  this  is  all  but  a  colourable  shew. 
For  you  will  find  in  the  end  that  this  worthy  company  will  be 
broken,  and  come  to  nothing.  We  must  ah1  arm  ourselves  with 

Mr.  Ferrar  had  now  gained  the  highest  reputation  with  all 
ranks  of  men  for  the  uncommon  abilities  which  he  displayed  on 
every  occasion,  and  the  esteem  for  his  great  virtues  was  un- 
bounded, but  especially  with  those  who  were  interested  in  the 
affairs  of  the  Virginia  company.  At  this  time  a  citizen  of  the 
first  class  both  for  riches  and  reputation  paid  him  a  visit,  and 
after  the  warmest  expressions  of  the  highest  opinion  of  his  extra- 
ordinary talents,  and  integrity,  thus  continued,  "Mr.  Ferrar. 


I  have  an  only  daughter,  who,  if  paternal  affection  doth  not  too 
much  influence  my  judgment,  is  both  wise  and  comely :  indeed  it 
is  confessed  by  all  that  she  is  very  beautiful.  I  know  her  to  have 
been  virtuously  educated,  to  be  well  accomplished,  and  to  be  of 
an  amiable  disposition.  If  you  will  be  pleased  to  accept  of  her  as 
your  wife,  I  will  immediately  give  you  with  her  ten  thousand 
pounds."  Mr.  Ferrar  was  much  surprised,  returned  his  sincere 
thanks,  but  said  he  was  not  worthy  of  so  great  a  treasure.  The 
citizen  however  persisted,  said  he  was  really  in  earnest  to  bring 
about  the  connection  :  that  at  present  he  only  made  his  proposal 
with  intent  to  give  him  an  opportunity  to  consider  of  it.  After 
a  few  days  he  came  again,  and  asked  Mr.  Ferrar  if  he  had 
advised  with  his  friends  concerning  his  proposal,  saying,  "  They 
all  know  me  well."  Mr.  Ferrar  answered  that  he  had  not ;  "for 
you  I  perceive,  sir,  are  greatly  mistaken  in  me,  first  in  having  too 
high  an  opinion  of  my  abilities,  and  next  with  respect  to  my 
estate,  which  you  perhaps  may  conceive  to  be  what  it  is  not.  I 
think  myself  infinitely  obliged  to  you  for  your  good  will  towards 
me,  and  for  honouring  me  so  far  as  to  think,  what  I  cannot 
think  of  myself,  that  I  am  any  way  worthy  of  so  inestimable  a 
treasure  as  your  daughter."  "  Mr.  Ferrar,"  he  replied,  "  do  not 
talk  thus  to  me  :  for  I  know  you  perfectly  well ;  and  as  for  your 
estate,  I  give  myself  no  manner  of  concern  about  it.  What  for- 
tune you  have  I  demand  not  to  know.  Let  it  be  what  it  will ;  if 
you  have  nothing,  I  thank  God  that  I  have  enough  to  make  you 
and  my  daughter  happy  as  to  worldly  matters.  And  as  to  my 
own  part,  I  shall  think  myself  the  happiest  man  upon  earth  to 
have  you  my  son-in-law,  and  my  daughter  must  be  equally  happy 
to  have  so  accomplished,  and  so  virtuous  a  man  for  her 

By  means  of  an  intimate  friend  of  the  father,  an  interview  was 
brought  about  at  this  friend's  house  between  the  young  lady  and 
Mr.  Ferrar,  where  in  a  select  company  they  passed  several  hours 
together.  The  father  then  took  a  convenient  opportunity  to  a-k 
his  daughter  what  she  thought  of  Mr.  Ferrar,  to  which  >h<- 
answered,  "  Nothing  but  good."  "  Can  you  then  like  him  for  a 
hu>haml  :"  to  which  with  equal  ingenuousness  and  modesty  she 
replied.  "Sir,  I  shall  with  pleasure  do  in  this,  as  well  as  in  all 
other  things,  as  you  will  please  to  have  me :  my  duty  and  my 
inclination  \\ill  <j;o  together."  Matters  being  so  far  advanced, the 
tat  her  said  to  Mr.  Ferrar,  "  Now,  sir,  you  have  seen  my  daugh- 


ter,  I  hope  her  person  and  deportment  are  such  as  to  merit  your 
approbation.  As  to  your  own  estate,  nothing  is  desired  to  be 
known.  Be  that  as  it  may ;  I  have  enough  ;  I  like  you,  and  my 
daughter  submits  herself  to  my  choice.  Now  let  me  have  your 
answer."  Mr.  Ferrer  replied,  "  The  young  lady  your  daughter, 
sir,  is  in  every  respect  not  only  unexceptionable,  but  highly  to  be 
admired :  she  is  beautiful,  and  accomplished,  and  amiable  to  the 
greatest  degree,  and  far  superior  to  all  that  I  can  merit :  indeed 
I  do  not,  I  cannot  deserve  this  great  happiness.  I  return  you 
my  sincerest  thanks  for  your  unequalled  goodness  to  me ;  and  in 
the  confidence  of  friendship  I  will  now  acquaint  you  with  the 
private  and  fixed  determination  of  my  mind.  If  God  will  give 
me  grace  to  keep  a  resolution  long  since  formed,  I  have  deter- 
mined to  lead  a  single  life  ;  and  after  having  discharged,  to  the 
best  of  my  ability,  my  duty  to  the  company,  and  to  my  family,  as 
to  worldly  concerns,  I  seriously  purpose  to  devote  myself  to  God, 
and  to  go  into  a  religious  retirement."  Thus  ended  this  affair, 
and  the  father  ever  after  preserved  the  most  affectionate  friend- 
ship for  Mr.  Ferrar. 

After  the  unworthy  part  which  the  king,  influenced  by  Gondo- 
mar,  had  taken  in  the  persecution  of  the  Virginia  company,  the 
deputy  had  now  indeed  a  great  encrease  of  trouble  in  managing 
their  concerns.  But  in  truth  and  justice  to  his  friends  it  must 
be  said,  that  lord  Southampton,  the  earl  of  Dorset,  the  earl  of 
Devon,  lord  Paget,  Sir  Edwyn  Sandys  and  many  others,  gave 
him  all  the  assistance  in  their  power.  But  all  to  no  purpose. 
For  the  king,  notwithstanding  his  royal  word  and  honour 1 

1  Word  and  honour."]  "  It  must  be  admitted  that  Ferrar  was  not  himself 
unscathed  in  this  political  contest :  his  conscience  was  wounded  both  as 
regarded  his  God  and  his  king.  In  taking  so  active  and  conspicuous  a  part 
in  this  transaction,  he  had  opposed  the  wishes  of  James,  who  was  known  to 
be  unfriendly  to  the  impeachment.  He  had  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  the 
directors  and  proprietors  of  the  company,  and  in  doing  so,  it  seems  that  some 
free  speeches  of  his  against  the  will  of  his  prince,  though  exceedingly  well 
meant,  and  tending  to  the  ends  of  public  justice,  were,  nevertheless,  a  source 
of  long  and  deep  regret  to  his  loyal  heart :  so  much  so,  that  he  was  heard  to 
say,  stretching  out  his  right  hand,  *  I  would  I  were  assured  of  the  pardon 
of  that  sin,  though  on  the  condition  that  this  hand  were  cut  off.'  " — Brief 
Memoirs  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  M.A.,  chiefly  collected  from  a  narrative  by  the 
right  rev.  Dr.  Turner,  formerly  lord  bishop  of  Ely,  and  now  edited,  with  addi- 
tions, by  the  Rev.  T.  M.  Macdonough,  vicar  of  Bovinadon,  p.  73.  183/.  I2mo. 

I  am  inclined  to  conjecture,  that  the  indignant  expressions  of  a  political 


pledged  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding  the  grant  under  the 
great  seal  of  England,  notwithstanding  all  that  should  bind 
the  conscience,  and  direct  the  conduct  of  an  honest  man,  was 
now  determined  with  all  his  force  to  make  the  last  assault,  and 
give  the  death-blow  to  this  as  yet,  prosperous,  and  thriving 

At  this  juncture  a  full  testimonial  came  from  the  colony, 
proving  the  healthiness  of  the  climate,  and  the  fruitfulness  of 
the  country,  against  the  slanderous  informations  of  that  captain 
Butler,  who  had  been  suborned  by  Gondomar  and  his  agents  to 
spread  defamatory  reports  concerning  a  country  of  which  he  knew 
nothing,  having  only  been  there  in  his  flight  from  justice,  and 
having  suddenly  stolen  away  from  thence  to  avoid  being  seized  by 
authority  for  his  scandalous  proceedings. 

This  testimonial  being  exhibited  at  the  council  board,  the  lords 
in  Gondomar's  interest  became  enraged,  and  resolved  upon  the 
last  violence.  They  therefore  now  drew  up  a  great  number  of 
charges  utterly  false  and  slanderous,  against  both  the  company 
and  the  colony,  under  the  invention  and  direction  of  Gondomar, 
and  the  lord  treasurer  Cranfield.  These  accusations  were  given 
to  the  latter,  and  he  now  undertook  either  by  consent  to  get,  or 
by  force  to  wring  the  patent  out  of  the  hands  of  the  company. 

\Vith  this  view  on  the  Thursday  before  Easter,  1623,  a  council 
was  called,  and  the  deputy  and  others  were  sent  for  to  attend. 
Who  being  come,  the  lord  treasurer  presented  those  papers  of 
accusation  to  the  lords,  saying  that  they  contained  a  charge 
which  the  deputy  and  company  must  answer  by  the  next  Monday. 
For  that  a  longer  time  would  not,  and  should  not  be  allowed 
them.  Mr.  Ferrar  taking  up  the  bulky  bundle,  said  he  thought 
it  impossible  to  assemble  the  company,  and  answer  so  many,  and 
such  strange  articles  in  so  short  a  time  as  two  days ;  for  Sunday 
was  not  a  day  for  business,  and  therefore  he  humbly  besought 
their  lordships  to  allow  him  only  a  week,  and  he  would  desire  no 
more.  Upon  this  the  lord  treasurer  cried  out  in  great  wrath, 
44  Not  an  hour  longer  than  till  Monday  afternoon,  and  therefore 
take  up  the  papers  and  be  gone." 

These  papers  on  examination  were  found  to  contain  a  huge 
parcel  of  absolute  falsehoods,  which  the  enemies  of  the  company 

character,  in  the  text,  here  and  elsewhere,  are  to  be  attributed  principally,  not 
to  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  but  to  the  modem  compiler.  Dr.  Peckard. 


had  invented,  and  drawn  out  to  such  an  unreasonable  length,  that 
by  the  shortness  of  the  time  allowed  (which  was  preconcerted 
with  the  lord  treasurer)  it  was  thought  impossible  that  the  agents 
for  the  company  should  give  in  any  answer  ;  that  then  Gondo- 
rnar  and  his  party  would  be  triumphant,  and  able  to  boast  that 
the  Virginia  company  either  could  not,  or  durst  not  answer  their 

Mr.  Ferrar  however  dividing  the  charge  into  three  parts, 
giving  one  to  lord  Cavendish,  another  to  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and 
taking  the  third  to  himself,  and  employing  six  clerks  very  ready 
with  the  pen  to  copy  fair,  continuing  at  the  work  without  inter- 
ruption, night  and  day,  allowing  but  two  hours  for  sleep,  and 
refreshment,  did  actually  produce  and  lay  before  the  council,  a 
complete  answer  at  the  time  appointed.  The  lords  were  assem- 
bled and  making  themselves  merry  with  the  expected  embarrass- 
ment of  the  Virginia  company.  But  in  a  very  short  time  their 
merriment  was  converted  into  shame  and  confusion.  A  clerk  was 
ordered  to  read  the  answer.  The  reading  took  up  full  six  hours. 
When  it  was  done,  all  was  a  considerable  time  deep  silence  and 
astonishment.  The  adversaries  of  the  company  were  all  per- 
plexed, and  confounded,  and  in  shame  retired  home.  They  had 
however  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  secrete  and  convey  away 
the  answer  they  had  required.  It  never  appeared  more,  and  the 
company  never  heard  what  became  of  it. 

The  Spanish  match  being  yet  intended,  and  prosecuted,  during 
this  negociation  the  king  was  the  absolute  slave  of  Gondomar,  to 
do  without  regard  to  honour  or  justice  whatsoever  he  should  ad- 
vise to  be  done.  In  consequence  of  this  infatuation,  the  deputy, 
and  thirty  more  of  the  directors,  and  principal  persons  of  the 
Virginia  company  were  now  served  with  a  writ  of  Quo  Warranto, 
and  commanded  to  show  by  what  authority  they  pretended  to 
exercise  a  power  over  the  plantation,  and  to  send  a  governor 
thither :  and  by  this  process  the  company  now  were  obliged  to 
go  to  law  to  defend  their  right. 

After  many  delays  the  cause  came  on  to  be  pleaded.  The 
great  plea  which  the  king's  attorney  general  (Coventry)  brought 
against  them  was,  "  That  it  was  in  general  an  unlimited,  vast 
patent.  In  particular,  the  main  inconvenience  was,  that  by  the 
words  of  the  charter,  the  company  had  a  power  given  them  to 
carry  away,  and  transport  to  Virginia,  as  many  of  the  king's 
loving  subjects  as  were  desirous  to  go  thither.  And  consequently, 


he  said,  by  exercising  this  liberty,  they  may  in  the  end  carry 
away  all  the  king's  subjects  into  a  foreign  land ;  and  so  leave  his 
majesty  a  kingdom  here  indeed,  but  no  subjects  in  it.  And  if 
this  should  be  the  case,  what  will  then  become  of  him,  or  of  us  ? 
This  is  certainly  a  strange  clause,  and  the  patent  wherein  it  is 
contained  ought  to  be  forfeited." 

This  weighty  argument  extorted  a  smile  even  from  the  judges, 
and  the  lawyers  concerned  to  carry  on  the  prosecution.  Never- 
theless, it  was  admitted  :  for  the  determination  was  made,  previous 
to  entering  upon  the  merits  of  the  cause,  what  the  decree  should 
be.  The  attorney-general  then  proceeded,  and  said  he  had  found 
a  flaw  in  the  company's  answer,  which  if  admitted,  contained  on 
the  one  hand  too  much,  and  on  the  other  too  little  ;  and  there- 
fore, being  such  a  nicety  in  law,  he  craved  sentence  upon  it  as 

Sentence  was  thereupon  given,  u  That  the  patent,  or  charter 
of  the  company  of  English  merchants  trading  to  Virginia  and 
pretending  to  exercise  a  power  and  authority  over  his  majesty's 
good  subjects  there,  should  be  thenceforth  null  and  void." 

The  king  was  at  the  bottom  of  this  whole  proceeding,  which 
from  beginning  to  end  was  a  despotic  violation  of  honour  and  of 

The  great  reputation  of  Mr.  Ferrar  being  now  spread  over  all 
parts  of  the  country  by  the  members  of  the  late  dissolved  Virginia 
company,  he  was  in  1624,  elected  a  member  of  parliament.  As 
this  in  a  general  consideration  was  highly  proper  on  account  of 
his  extensive  abilities,  and  known  integrity ;  so  was  there  a 
peculiar  propriety  in  his  election  at  this  time ;  as  there  was  an 
intention  now  to  call  to  account  before  the  house  of  parliament, 
those  persons  who  had  abused  the  king's  ear,  and  had  been 
guilty  of  those  violent  enormities  in  the  false  accusation  of  the 
managers  of  the  Virginia  company.  For  it  was  well  known  that 
Mr.  Ferrar  was  not  only  more  accurately  acquainted  with  all  the 
circumstances  of  that  affair  than  any  other  person,  but  had  also 
abilities  and  firmness  sufficient  to  carry  on  the  prosecution  in  a 
proper  manner. 

The  prince  being  now  returned  from  Spain  in  great  discontent. 
the  Spanish  party  at  court  began  in  some  degree  to  lose  their 
influence.  The  parliament  met.  Mr.  Ferrar  was  appointed  one 
of  several  committees:  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and  many  other 
members  of  the  lat«-  Virginia  company  were  also  in  this  j.arlia- 


ment.  A  charge  was  brought  in  against  the  lord  treasurer,  the 
earl  of  Middlesex,  for  taking  bribes,  and  divers  other  exorbi- 
tancies  committed  in  the  execution  of  his  office ;  and  also  for  his 
conduct  in  the  Virginia  affair,  and  his  violence  in  taking  away 
the  patent,  and  dissolving  the  company. 

On  this  occasion  the  house  appointed  the  lord  William  Caven- 
dish, sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and  Nicholas  Ferrar  to  draw  up  the 
charge  against  him  and  those  others,  who  had  been  his  instru- 
ments in  that  scandalous  proceeding.  The  charge  was  soon 
drawn  up,  as  Mr.  Ferrar  had  all  the  necessary  materials  ready  in 
his  hands.  The  accusation  was  opened  by  him  in  a  speech  which 
lasted  two  hours,  and  which  gained  him  universal  admiration. 
For  now  he  was  fully  and  publicly  seen  in  this  exertion  of  his 
great  abilities.  The  lord  treasurer  was  deprived  of  his  office, 
and  punished  by  a  large  fine,  and  imprisonment. 

The  iniquity  of  the  Virginia  business  being  fully  proved,  and 
laid  before  the  public,  by  Mr.  Ferrar,  and  the  other  managers, 
the  house  resolved  to  take  the  whole  affair  into  their  serious 
consideration,  and  endeavour  to  restore  the  company.  But 
before  they  could  make  any  progress  they  received  a  message 
from  the  king,  "  That  he  both  already  had,  and  would  also  here- 
after take  the  affair  of  the  said  late  Virginia  company  into  his 
own  most  serious  consideration  and  care :  and  that  by  the  next 
parliament  they  should  all  see  he  would  make  it  one  of  his  master 
pieces,  as  it  well  deserved  to  be."  And  thus  was  all  farther  pro- 
ceeding in  that  matter  dishonourably  stayed.  For,  as  the  event 
shewed,  all  these  were  nothing  but  fair  words  without  any  other 
intention  than  to  stop  the  business.  No  care  was  taken  of  the 
plantation,  but  all  was  left  to  go  to  ruin.  The  violence  and 
injustice,  and  other  miseries  consequent  upon  this  falsehood,  and 
repeated  breach  of  honour  in  the  king  would  supply  a  large 
story :  but  for  divers  reasons  they  are  not  proper  to  be  here 

When  Mr.  Ferrar  was  first  elected  deputy  governor  of  the 
company,  and  by  his  office  became  accurately  acquainted  with  all 
their  circumstances,  he  was  soon  convinced  of  the  unbounded 
influence  of  Gondomar,  of  the  king^s  astonishing  infatuation,  and 
of  his  total  disregard  of  truth  and  justice.  Such  a  king  as  James 
was  the  properest  instrument  that  could  be  found  for  such  a 
workman  as  Gondomar ;  and  Mr.  Ferrar  plainly  saw  the  malice  of 
the  one,  and  the  folly  of  the  other ;  and  like  a  wise  man  provided 

VOL. iv.  N 


all  in  his  power  against  future  contingencies.  He  saw  that 
Gondomar  by  means  of  the  king  would  probably  ruin  the  com- 
pany ;  and  that  if  they  should  carry  this  point,  they  most  likely 
would  cause  all  the  court  books,  registers,  instructions,  and  all 
other  writings  of  the  company  to  be  taken  away  from  their 
officers:  that  if  opportunity  should  afterward  be  offered,  they 
might  never  be  able  to  make  use  of  them  either  for  their  own 
justification,  or  in  refutation  of  the  false  accusations  of  their 
enemies.  He  did  not  therefore  depend  upon  the  present  pro- 
mising appearance  of  their  affairs :  he  knew  that  malice  was  at 
work  ;  and  he  had  frequently  seen  a  temporary  calm  precede  the 
most  destructive  storm. 

Being  under  apprehensions  of  this  sort,  about  a  year  before 
the  dissolution  of  the  company,  he  procured  an  expert  clerk 
fairly  to  copy  out  all  the  court  books,  and  all  other  writings 
belonging  to  them,  and  caused  them  all  to  be  carefully  collated 
with  the  originals,  and  afterwards  attested  upon  oath  by  the 
examiners  to  be  true  copies.  The  transcribing  of  which  cost 
him  out  of  his  own  pocket  above  50£,  but  this  he  thought  one  of 
the  best  services  he  could  do  the  company. 

When  the  lords  of  the  council  therefore  (as  before  related) 
seized  the  originals,  Mr.  Ferrar  had  all  these  attested  copies, 
as  yet  unknown  to  any  of  the  company,  safe  in  his  possession. 
But  now  when  the  lord  treasurer  had  procured  sentence  in  form 
against  the  company,  and  all  their  muniments  had  been  taken 
from  them,  Mr.  Ferrar  informed  sir  Edwyn  Sandys,  and  - 
other  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  what  a  treasure  he  had  yet 
remaining  in  his  hands  ;  and  desired  their  opinion  how  ho  might 
best  dispose  of  them.  On  hearing  this  they  were  equally  .sur- 
prised and  overjoyed,  and  unanimously  desired  him  to  carry  them 
to  their  late  worthy  governor  the  carl  of  Southampton.  He  did 
so,  and  farther  told  his  lordship,  that  he  now  left  them  entirely 
to  his  lordship's  care  and  disposal :  that  if  hereafter  there  should 
be  opportunity,  he  might  make  use  of  them  in  justification  of 
his  own,  and  the  late  company's  most  honourable  and  upright 

Tin-  earl  of  Southampton  cordially  embracing  Mr.  Ferrar,  said 
to  him,  u  You  still  more  and  more  engage  me  to  love  and  honour 
you.  I  accept  of  this  your  present  as  of  a  rich  treasure.  For 
these  are  evidences  that  concern  my  honour.  I  shall  value  them 
therefore  even  more  than  the  evidences  that  mix-em  m\  lands  ; 


inasmuch  as  my  honour  and  reputation  are  to  me  of  more  estima- 
tion than  wealth  or  life  itself.  They  are  also  the  testimonials  of 
all  our  upright  dealings  in  the  business  of  the  late  company 
and  the  plantation.  I  cannot  therefore  express  how  highly  I 
think  myself  obliged  to  you  for  this  instance  of  your  care  and 

Soon  after  this  interview,  lord  Southampton  was  advised  not 
to  keep  these  books  in  his  own  house,  lest  search  should  be  made 
there  for  them  ;  but  rather  to  place  them  in  the  hands,  and 
entrust  them  to  the  care  of  some  particular  friend.  Which  ad- 
vice, as  the  times  then  stood,  he  thought  proper  to  follow.  He 
therefore  delivered  them  into  the  custody  of  sir  R.  Killegrew, 
who  kept  them  safely  till  he  died.  He  left  and  recommended 
them  to  the  care  of  sir  Edward  Sackville,  late  earl  of  Dorset,  who 
died  in  May,  1652  :  and  it  is  hoped  that  this  noble  family  still 
hath  them  in  safe  keeping 2. 

Mr.  Ferrar  having  seen  the  dissolution  of  the  Virginia  com- 
pany3, and  no  hope  left  of  its  revival,  took  his  leave  of  the  Virginia 
affairs  by  now  paying  the  300£.  left  by  his  father  for  the  purpose 
of  erecting  a  college  there,  to  the  governor  and  company  of  the 
Somers  Islands :  binding  them  in  articles  to  send  for  three  Vir- 
ginia children,  and  bring  them  up  in  those  islands :  and  when  of 
fit  age  to  put  them  out  to  some  proper  business  :  or  else  educate 
them  in  learning,  and  then  send  them  back  to  the  place  of 
their  birth,  to  convert  their  countrymen :  and  that  when  the 
first  three  were  thus  disposed  of,  three  other  should  from 
time  to  time  be  sent  for  in  succession  for  the  same  benevolent 

And  thus  ended  Mr.  Ferraris  public  life ;  in  which  he  displayed 

2  In  safe  keeping.']  It  is  very  probable  that  they  are  still  in  safe  keeping  at 
Knowle,  the  ancestral  residence  of  the  Sackville  family,  now  [1852]  belonging 
to  the  countess  of  Amherst,  the  heiress  of  the  dukes  of  Dorset. 

3  Dissolution  of  the  Virginia  company. ~\  Many  facts  relating  to  the  history 
of  this  company  will  be  found  in  the  following  work :  viz.,  "A  Short  Collection 
of  the  most  remarkable  Passages  from  the  Originall  to  the  Dissolution  of  the 
Virginia  Company.     London,  1651."  4to.     It  is  written  by  Arthur  Woodnoth, 
and  was  given  by  him  to  his  cousin,  William  Woodnoth,  some  years  after 
whose  death  it  was  published,  with  a  dedication  by  "A.  P."  to  "the  Com- 
pany of  Adventurers  for  the  Sommer,  alias  the  Bermudas  Islands."     A.  P. 
calls  Arthur  Woodnoth,  "a  true  friend  and  servant  to  sir  John  Danvers 
(see  p.  8)  and  the  Parliament  interest.'*     The  Woodnoths,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, were  relations  of  the  Ferrars.     See  p.  124. 

N  2 


many  proofs  of  great  and  extensive  abilities,  and  of  uncommon 
virtue,  particularly  of  indefatigable  diligence,  industry,  and  ac- 
tivity, by  which  he  gained  universal  admiration,  and  performed 
many  important  services,  both  to  the  Virginia  company,  and  all 
others  with  whom  he  was  concerned. 

The  king  having  seized  the  patent  and  dissolved  the  Virginia 
company,  and  Mr.  Ferrar  having  seen  the  attested  copies  of  all 
the  books  and  papers  belonging  to  them  delivered  into  safe  cus- 
tody in  the  Dorset  family,  he  was  now  disengaged  from  public 
cares,  and  determined  to  carry  into  execution  the  plan  he  had 
long  set  his  heart  upon,  to  bid  farewel  to  the  busy  world,  and 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  religious  retirement,  and  a 
strict  course  of  devotion. 

Yet  before  he  could  complete  his  pious  purpose  it  was  necessary 
for  him  finally  to  settle  some  matters  of  great  consequence,  though 
of  a  private  nature,  which  had  been  entrusted  to  his  care.  His 
established  reputation  for  inflexible  integrity  had  influenced  seve- 
ral persons  to  prevail  with  him  to  undertake  the  executorship  of 
their  wills,  and  the  settlement  of  their  worldly  affairs :  and  in 
some  of  these  instances  this  trust  concerned  property  of  great 
value,  and  was  involved  in  circumstances  of  great  difficulty. 
Beside  these  occupations  relative  to  the  property  of  others,  the 
situation  of  his  brother  required  his  immediate  and  close  atten- 
tion. Mr.  John  Ferrar  had  been  for  three  years  deputy  governor 
of  the  Virginia  company,  and  in  order  to  give  himself  up  wholly 
to  the  discharge  of  that  important  trust,  he  had  put  into  the 
hands  of  his  partners  in  mercantile  business  seven  thousand 
pounds,  and  assigned  the  management  of  those  affairs  over  to 
them.  He  also  advanced  six  thousand  pounds  more  to  them,  for 
which  he  was  engaged  by  a  personal  security.  Whether  it  were 
by  mismanagement  or  misfortune  does  not  at  present  appear,  but 
about  this  time  the  concerns  of  this  partnership  were  fallen  into 
the  greatest  confusion,  and  involved  in  the  utmost  embarrass- 
ment. Mr.  N.  Ferrar  nevertheless  by  his  great  sagacity  and 
indefatigable  industry,  in  a  shorter  time  than  could  be  believed, 
extricated  his  brother  from  all  his  difficulties,  and  settled  his 
affairs  in  the  most  honourable  manner  at  the  loss  of  about  three 
thousand  pounds. 

His  next  care  was  to  provide  a  place  fitted  for  the  purpose,  and 
corresponding  with  his  iduas  of  religious  retirement.  His  mother 
had  indeed  a  very  large  house  in  London,  in  which  had  been  holden 


the  meetings  of  the  Virginia  company :  she  had  also  a  consider- 
able estate,  and  a  large  house  in  the  town  of  Hertford.  But  nei- 
ther of  these  places  had  his  approbation,  both  being  too  much  in 
view  of  the  public. 

At  length  he  was  informed  that  the  lordship  of  Little  Gidding, 
in  the  county  of  Huntingdon,  was  to  be  sold.  He  immediately 
went  thither  to  examine  the  place  and  premises,  which  he  found, 
with  respect  to  privacy  of  situation,  exactly  suited  to  his  wishes. 
It  was  a  parish  that  had  been  for  some  time  depopulated.  Nothing 
was  left  but  one  extremely  large  mansion-house,  going  hastily  to 
decay,  and  a  small  church  within  thirty  or  forty  paces  of  the 
house,  and  at  that  time  converted  into  a  barn.  Upon  his  return 
to  London  he  purchased  the  whole  lordship,  and  this  purchase 
was  made  in  the  year  1624. 

But  now  the  plague  having  been  some  time  in  London,  was  in 
the  year  1 625  spread  over  most  parts  of  the  town,  and  was  disco- 
vered to  be  at  the  very  next  door  to  Mrs.  Ferraris  house.  Mr. 
N.  Ferrar  was  therefore  very  urgent  that  she  and  the  family 
would  immediately  depart  into  the  country ;  but  while  she  lin- 
gered, being  unwilling  to  leave  him  behind,  he  procured  a  coach, 
and  at  length  prevailed :  and  that  very  night,  Whitsun-eve,  she 
with  her  son  John,  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  went  to  her  house 
at  Hertford,  and  the  following  week  to  her  daughter  Collet's,  at 
Bourne-bridge,  in  Cambridgeshire. 

Mr.  N.  Ferrar  would  have  attended  his  mother,  but  that  he 
had  not  completely  settled  his  brother's  affairs.  During  this 
business,  Mr.  J.  Ferrar,  leaving  his  mother  at  Bourne,  went  to 
Gidding  to  make  some  necessary  preparation  there  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  family,  who  were  now  become  very  unhappy  at  the 
stay  of  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  in  London,  as  they  had  been  informed  that 
the  disorder  was  fatal  every  week  to  more  than  four  thousand 
persons.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished  the  business  which  required 
his  stay,  he,  with  great  joy  and  gratitude  to  God,  repaired  to 
Gidding ;  from  whence  he  wrote  to  his  mother,  entreating  her 
not  to  come  to  him  in  less  than  a  month,  that  it  might  appear 
whether  he  had  brought  away  any  infection  with  him.  But  her 
impatience  to  see  him  was  so  great,  that  three  days  after  she  rode 
thither,  and  their  meeting  was  such  as  might,  at  that  time,  be 
expected  between  a  pious  parent  and  a  dutiful  son,  to  the  highest 
degree  mutually  affectionate ;  in  its  circumstances  indeed  very 
different  from  the  modern  meetings  of  parent  and  son :  for  he, 


though  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  who  had  been  engaged  in  many 
public  concerns  of  great  importance,  had  been  a  distinguished 
member  of  parliament,  and  had  conducted  with  effect  the  prose- 
cution of  the  prime  minister  of  the  day,  at  first  approaching  his 
mother,  knelt  upon  the  ground  to  ask  and  receive  her  blessing. 
He  then  besought  her  to  go  into  the  house,  rude  as  it  was,  and 
repose  herself.  This  she  refused  till  she  had  given  thanks  to  God 
in  the  church,  which  was  very  near  at  hand.  But  she  was  exceed- 
ingly grieved  to  find  it  filled  with  hay  and  instruments  of  hus- 
bandry. Immediately  all  the  workmen,  many  in  number,  em- 
ployed in  the  repair  of  the  house,  were  set  to  cleanse  and  repair 
the  church :  for  she  said  she  would  not  suffer  her  eyes  to  sleep 
nor  her  eyelids  to  slumber  till  she  had  purified  the  temple  of  the 
Lord.  In  about  a  month's  time,  finding  that  all  danger  of 
infection  was  over,  she  sent  for  her  beloved  daughter  Collet,  and 
her  husband,  and  all  their  numerous  family,  to  come  and  live  with 
her  at  Oidding. 

Mrs.  Ferrar  was  now  seventy-three  years  of  age,  yet  was  she 
possessed  of  so  much  vigour,  and  had  so  much  of  the  appearance 
as  well  as  the  reality  of  health,  that  all  who  saw  her  concluded 
her  to  be  not  more  than  forty.  Her  family  now  consisted  of  near 
forty  persons ;  and  it  being  a  season  of  deep  humiliation  on 
account  of  the  mortality  then  become  general  all  over  the  king- 
dom, it  was  determined  to  address  themselves  to  God,  as  often  as 
they  conveniently  could,  according  to  the  doctrine  and  discipline 
by  law  established  in  the  church  of  England.  To  this  end,  Mr. 
N.  Ferrar  obtained  permission  of  his  old  acquaintance  bishop 
Williams,  to  have  the  service  performed  in  the  church,  which 
was  now  put  into  decent  repair ;  and  he  procured  the  minister  of 
the  adjoining  parish  to  read  the  morning  service  every  day  at  eight 
o'clock,  the  litany  at  ten,  and  the  evening  service  at  four.  On 
the  Sunday  mornings  the  whole  family  went  to  Steeple  (iiddin^, 
and  in  the  afternoon  the  minister  of  that  parish  and  his  parish- 
ioners came  to  the  church  newly  repaired  by  Mrs.  Ferrar. 

At  Easter,  1626,  the  plague  being  then  ceased,  Mr.  N.  Ferrar 
and  his  mother,  and  some  others  of  the  family,  went  to  London, 
tn  dispose  of  their  great  house  there,  to  settle  their  remaining 
all'.iirs,  and  to  take  a  final  leave  of  all  their  friends.  When  they 
had  been  some  little  time  in  London,  he  resolved,  in  order  the 
better  to  carry  on  hi.s  religious  plan  by  his  own  personal  as 
anre,  to  become  a  deacon.  This  resolution  he  commnnieated  to 


none  but  his  honoured  tutor,  Dr.  Lindsel,  who  highly  applauded 
it,  and  introduced  him  to  Dr.  Laud,  then  bishop  of  St.  David's, 
by  whom  he  was  ordained  deacon  on  the  Trinity  Sunday 

On  his  return  home  he  addressed  himself  to  his  mother,  and 
shewed  her  in  a  writing  signed,  a  vow  which  he  had  made  with 
great  solemnity ;  That  since  God  had  so  often  heard  his  most 
humble  petitions,  and  delivered  him  out  of  many  dangers ;  and 
in  many  desperate  calamities  had  extended  his  mercy  to  him  ;  he 
would  therefore  now  give  himself  up  continually  to  serve  God  to 
the  utmost  of  his  power,  in  the  office  of  a  deacon :  into  which 
office  he  had  that  very  morning  been  regularly  ordained.  That 
he  had  long  ago  seen  enough  of  the  manners  and  of  the  vanities 
of  the  world ;  and  that  he  did  hold  them  all  in  so  low  esteem, 
that  he  was  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  mortifi- 
cations, in  devotion,  and  charity,  and  in  a  constant  preparation 
for  death. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  even  in  his  infancy,  and  before 
he  set  out  upon  his  travels,  and  after  his  great  escape  upon  the 
Alps,  he  did  privately  and  solemnly  devote  himself  to  God ;  and 
that  after  his  unexpected  recovery  from  his  dangerous  illness  both 
at  Padua  and  Marseilles  he  repeated  these  pious  resolutions, 
adding  also  a  vow  of  perpetual  celibacy.  This,  if  true,  may 
account  for  his  extraordinary  continence  (though  in  the  full 
prime  and  vigour  of  life)  in  refusing  the  offer  of  a  young  lady  of 
incomparable  beauty  and  rare  accomplishments,  of  the  most 
amiable  disposition,  and  of  an  immense  fortune ;  who  had  also 
ingenuously  confessed  that  he  had  won  her  highest  approbation 
and  esteem.  Instances  of  such  firmness  of  mind  and  self-denial 
seldom  occur. 

The  news  of  Mr.  Ferrar  being  ordained  was  soon  spread  abroad 
both  in  the  city  and  at  court,  as  in  both  he  was  universally  known 
and  very  highly  esteemed.  His  constant  friends  the  marquis  of 
Hamilton,  lord  Pembroke,  and  Sir  Edwin  Sandys  took  this  oppor- 
tunity of  saying  to  him,  That  though  he  had  formerly  refused  all 
temporal  emoluments,  yet  now  he  had  taken  orders  they  must 
suppose  that  he  had  not  any  objection  to  spiritual  preferment,  and 
immediately  made  him  an  offer  of  some  ecclesiastical  benefices  of 
great  value.  These  he  refused  with  steadiness  and  humility, 
saying  that  he  did  not  think  himself  worthy.  He  added  also, 
that  his  fixed  determination  was  to  rise  no  higher  in  the  church 


than  the  place  and  office  which  he  now  possessed,  and  which  he 
had  undertaken  only  with  the  view  to  be  legally  authorised  to 
give  spiritual  assistance,  according  to  his  abilities,  to  his  family 
or  others,  with  whom  he  might  be  concerned.  That  as  to  tem- 
poral affairs,  he  had  now  parted  with  all  his  worldly  estate,  and 
divided  it  amongst  his  family.  That  he  earnestly  besought  his 
honoured  friends  to  accept  his  sincere  thanks  for  their  good  opi- 
nion of  him,  for  whose  prosperity,  both  in  this  world  and  a  better, 
he  would  never  cease  to  pray.  And  now  having  finished  all  busi- 
ness in  London,  and  taken  a  solemn  and  final  leave  of  all  their 
friends,  he  and  his  mother  returned  to  Gidding. 

It  now  comes  in  course  to  speak  of  the  established  economy 
both  of  the  house  and  the  church  ;  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  reader 
will  here  excuse  a  circumstantial  relation  :  because  on  these  very 
circumstances,  misapprehended,  and  misrepresented,  were  founded 
all  the  calumnies  and  persecution  which  the  family  afterward 

Many  workmen  having  been  employed  near  two  years,  both 
the  house  and  church  were  in  tolerable  repair,  yet  with  respect 
to  the  church  Mrs.  Ferrar  was  not  well  satisfied.  She  therefore 
new  floored  and  wainscotted  it  throughout.  She  provided  also 
two  new  suits  of  furniture  for  the  reading-desk,  pulpit,  and  com- 
munion-table :  one  for  the  week  days,  and  the  other  for  Sundays 
and  other  festivals.  The  furniture  for  week  days  was  of  green 
cloth,  with  suitable  cushions  and  carpets.  That  for  festivals  was 
of  rich  blue  cloth,  with  cushions  of  the  same,  decorated  with  lace, 
and  fringe  of  silver.  The  pulpit  was  fixed  on  the  north,  and  the 
reading-desk  over  against  it,  on  the  south  side  of  the  church,  and 
both  on  the  same  level*:  it  being  thought  improper  that  a  higher 
place  should  be  appointed  for  preaching  than  that  which  was 
allotted  for  prayer.  A  new  font  was  also  provided,  the  leg,  laver, 
and  cover  all  of  brass,  handsomely  and  expensively  wrought  and 
carved  ;  with  a  large  brass  lectern,  or  pillar  and  eagle  of  brass 
for  the  Bible.  The  font  was  placed  by  the  pulpit,  and  the  lectern 
by  the  reading-desk. 

The  half-pace,  or  elevated  floor,  on  which  the  communion-tal>le 
stood  at  the  end  of  the  chancel,  with  the  stalls  on  each  side,  was 
covered  with  blue  taffety,  and  cushions  of  the  finest  tapestry  and 
blue  silk.  The  space  behind  the  communion-table,  under  the  east 

4  On  the  same  level.]  See  Walton's  Life  of  Herbert,  in  this  volume,  p.  20. 


window,  was  elegantly  wainscotted,  and  adorned  with  the  Ten 
Commandments,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Apostles'  Creed, 
engraved  on  four  beautiful  tablets  of  brass,  gilt. 

The  communion-table  itself  was  furnished  with  a  silver  patin, 
a  silver  chalice,  and  silver  candlesticks,  with  large  wax  candles  in 
them.  Many  other  candles  of  the  same  sort  were  set  up  in  every 
part  of  the  church,  and  on  all  the  pillars  of  the  stalls.  And  these 
were  not  for  the  purposes  of  superstition,  but  for  real  use  ;  which 
for  great  part  of  the  year  the  fixed  hours  for  prayer  made  neces- 
sary both  for  morning  and  evening  service.  Mrs.  Ferrar  also 
taking  great  delight  in  church  music,  built  a  gallery  at  the 
bottom  of  the  church  for  the  organ.  Thus  was  the  church 
decently  furnished,  and  ever  after  kept  elegantly  neat  and  clean. 

All  matters  preparatory  to  order  and  discipline  being  arranged 
and  settled,  about  the  year  1631,  Dr.  Williams,  the  bishop  of 
Lincoln,  came  privately  to  Gidding,  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  old  friend 
Mr.  N.  Ferrar,  with  whom  he  had  contracted  a  friendship  at  the 
Virginia  board,  and  for  whom  he  ever  held  the  highest  and  most 
affectionate  esteem. 

By  this  visit  he  had  an  opportunity  to  view  the  church,  and 
the  house,  and  to  examine  into  their  way  of  serving  God,  which 
had  been  much  spoken  against ;  to  know  also  the  soundness  of 
the  doctrine  they  maintained :  to  read  the  rules  which  Mr.  N. 
Ferrar  had  drawn  up  for  watching,  fasting,  and  praying,  for 
singing  psalms  and  hymns,  for  their  exercises  in  readings,  and 
repetitions  ;  for  their  distribution  of  alms,  their  care  of  the  sick, 
and  wounded ;  and  all  other  regularities  of  their  institution. 
All  which  the  bishop  highly  approved,  and  bade  them  in  God's 
name  to  proceed. 

In  1633  Mrs.  Ferrar  came  to  a  resolution5  to  restore  the 

3  Came  to  a  resolution.']  "  Their  heavenly-mindedness  was  best  discovered 
to  their  diocesan,  when  two  sons  of  Mrs.  Ferrar,  the  mother  and  matron  of 
the  houshold,  treated  with  the  bishop,  to  endow  the  church  with  the  tithes, 
which  had  been  impropriated  :  this  was  in  September  1633,  as  appears  by  a 
smack  of  that  which  fell  from  the  pen  of  the  donor,  as  followeth  : 

"  *  Right  reverend  father  in  God, 

" '  The  expectation  of  opportunities  having  some  years  wheeled 
me  off  from  the  performance  of  this  business,  I  now  think  it  necessary  to 
break  through  all  impediments,  and  humbly  to  present  to  your  lordship  the 
desires  and  the  intentions  of  my  heart :  beseeching  you  on  God's  behalf  to 


glebe  lands  and  tithes  to  the  church,  which  some  fourscore  years 
before  had  been  taken  away,  and  in  lieu  thereof  only  20/.  a  year 
paid  to  tin*  minister.  She  had  from  the  first  been  so  resolved, 
but  had  been  put  off  by  unexpected  delays.  She  found  great 
difficulty  in  making  out  the  glebe  lands  :  but  at  length  by  the 
industry  of  Mr.  N.  Ferrar,  she  overcame  it.  She  then  sent  her 
sons  John  and  Nicholas  with  a  letter  to  the  bishop  informing  him 
of  her  determination,  and  desiring  it  might  be  confirmed  by  his 

take  them  into  your  fatherly  consideration,  and  to  give  a  speedy  accomplish- 
ment to  them,  by  the  direction  of  your  wisdom,  and  the  assistance  of  your 

"The  rest  is  too  much  to  be  rehearsed,  save  a  little  of  her  prayer  to  God  in 
the  end  of  the  papers. 

" '  Be  graciously  pleased,  Lord,  now  to  accept  from  thy  handmaid  the  resti- 
tution of  that,  which  hath  been  unduly  heretofore  taken  from  thy  ministers. 
And  as  an  earnest  and  pledge  of  the  total  resignation  of  herself  and  hers  to 
thy  service,  vouchsafe  to  receive  to  the  use  of  thy  church  this  small  portion 
of  that  large  estate,  which  thou  hast  bestowed  on  her  the  unworthiest  of  thy 
servants.  Lord,  redeem  thy  right,  whereof  thou  hast  been  too  long  disseized 
by  the  world  both  in  the  possessions  and  in  the  person  of  thy  hand-maid. 
And  let  this  outward  seizure  of  earth  be  accompanied  with  an  inward  sur- 
prizal  of  the  heart  and  spirit,  into  thine  own  hands  :  so  that  the  restorer,  as 
well  as  that  which  is  restored,  may  become,  and  be  con6rmed  thine  inhe- 

"The  bishop  prayed  to  God  that  many  such  customers  might  come  to 
him  :  so  commended  her  free-will  offering  to  God,  and  confirmed  it. 

"  To  make  them  some  amends  for  their  liberality  to  the  church,  he  devised 
now  to  give  them  reputation  against  all  detraction.  Therefore  in  the  spring 
that  came  after,  he  gave  them  warning  on  what  Sunday  he  would  preach  in 
their  church,  whither  an  extreme  press  of  people  resorted  from  all  the  towns 
that  heard  of  it.  In  his  sermon  he  inserted  most  what  it  was  to  die  unto  the 
world:  that  the  righteous  should  scarce  be  saved:  that  our  right  eye,  and 
our  right  hand,  and  all  our  fleshly  contentments,  must  be  cut  off,  that  we 
may  enter  into  life.  All  tended  to  approve  the  dutiful  and  severe  life  of  the 
Femurs,  and  of  the  church  that  was  in  their  house.  After  sermon  the  bishop 
took  their  invitation  to  dine  with  them.  But  they  were  so  strict  to  keep  that 
day  holy,  that  they  left  not  a  servant  at  home  to  provide  for  the  table.  Yet 
it  was  handsomely  furnished  with  that  which  was  boiled  and  baked,  that 
required  no  attendance,  to  stay  any  one  from  church  to  look  to  it.  By  this 
visit  the  bishop  had  the  means  to  see  their  way  of  serving  God;  to  know  the 
soundness  of  doctrine  which  they  maintained  :  to  read  their  rules  which  they 
had  drawn  up  for  fasts,  and  vigils,  and  large  distribution  of  alms  :  in  which 
he  bad*- them  proceed  in  the  name  of  God,  and  gave  them  his  blessings  at 
his  departing." — Hacket's  Life  of  Archhishop  Williams,  part  ii.  p.  51.  See 
also  Kennett  On  Impropriations  and  Augmentation  of  Vicarages,  p.  235 — 7. 


authority.  This  authority  from  the  bishop  was  farther  strength- 
ened by  a  decree  in  chancery  under  lord  Coventry. 

In  the  spring  of  1 634,  the  bishop  to  make  some  acknowledge- 
ment of  this  generosity,  gave  notice,  that  he  would  again  pay  a 
visit  to  the  family  and  give  them  a  sermon.  And  it  being  known 
that  he  was  a  lover  of  church  music,  application  was  made  to 
Dr.  Towers,  dean  of  Peterborough,  who  sent  his  whole  choir  to 
Gidding  on  the  occasion.  Divine  service  was  performed  through- 
out in  the  cathedral  manner  with  great  solemnity.  The  bishop 
preached  a  sermon  adapted  to  the  occasion,  and  in  the  afternoon 
gave  confirmation  to  all  of  the  neighbourhood  who  desired  it. 

Every  thing  relative  to  the  church  being  now  compleatly 
settled,  Mr.  Ferrar  next  turned  his  attention  to  the  disposition 
of  the  mansion.  The  house  being  very  large,  and  containing 
many  apartments,  he  allotted  one  great  room  for  their  family 
devotions,  which  he  called  the  Oratory,  and  adjoining  to  this, 
two  other  convenient  rooms,  one  a  night  oratory  for  the  men, 
the  other  a  night  oratory  for  the  women:  he  also  set  out  a 
separate  chamber  and  closet  for  each  of  his  nephews  and  nieces  ; 
three  more  he  reserved  for  the  schoolmasters  ;  and  his  own 
lodgings  were  so  contrived  that  he  could  conveniently  see  that 
every  thing  was  conducted  with  decency  and  order.  Without 
doors  he  laid  out  the  gardens  in  a  beautiful  manner,  and  formed 
them  in  many  fair  walks. 

Another  circumstance  that  engaged  his  attention  was,  that  the 
parish  had  for  many  years  been  turned  into  pasture  grounds  ;  that 
as  there  was  a  very  large  dovecote,  and  a  great  number  of  pigeons 
upon  these  premises,  these  pigeons  must  consequently  feed  upon 
his  neighbours'  corn ;  and  this  he  thought  injustice.  He  there- 
fore converted  this  building  into  a  school-house,  which  being 
larger  than  was  wanted  for  the  young  people  of  the  family,  per- 
mission was  given  to  as  many  of  the  neighbouring  towns  as 
desired  it,  to  send  their  children  thither,  where  they  were  in- 
structed without  expence,  in  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  and  the 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion. 

For  this  and  other  purposes,  he  provided  three  masters  to  be 
constantly  resident  in  the  house  with  him.  The  first  was  to 
teach  English  to  strangers,  and  English  and  Latin  to  the  chil- 
dren of  the  family :  the  second,  good  writing  in  all  its  hands, 
and  arithmetic  in  all  its  branches :  the  third,  to  instruct  them  in 
the  theory  and  practice  of  music,  in  singing,  and  performing  upon 


the  organ,  viol,  and  lute.  On  the  last  instrument  his  sister  Collet 
was  a  distinguished  performer. 

For  all  these  things  the  children  had  their  stated  times  and 
hours.  So  that  though  they  were  always  in  action,  and  always 
learning  something,  yet  the  great  variety  of  things  they  were 
taught  prevented  all  weariness,  and  made  every  thing  be  received 
with  pleasure.  And  he  was  used  to  say  that  he  who  could  attain 
to  the  well-timing  things,  had  gained  an  important  point,  and 
found  the  surest  way  to  accomplish  great  designs  with  ease. 

On  Thursdays,  and  Saturdays  in  the  afternoons,  the  youths  were 
permitted  to  recreate  themselves  with  bows  and  arrows,  with 
running,  leaping,  and  vaulting,  and  what  other  manly  exercises 
they  themselves  liked  best.  With  respect  to  the  younger  part  of 
the  females,  the  general  mode  of  education  was  similar  to  that  of 
the  boys  except  where  the  difference  of  sex  made  a  different  em- 
ployment or  recreation  proper.  When  the  powers  of  reason  and 
judgment  became  in  some  degree  matured,  they  were  all  at  proper 
times  taken  under  the  immediate  instruction  of  Mr.  Ferrar  him- 
self, who  bestowed  several  hours  every  day  in  that  important 
employment.  According  to  the  capacity  of  each  he  gave  tin  -in 
passages  of  Scripture  to  get  by  heart,  and  particularly  the  whole 
book  of  psalms.  He  selected  proper  portions,  of  which  he  gave 
a  clear  explanation,  and  a  judicious  comment.  But  above  all 
things  he  was  anxiously  attentive  to  daily  catechetical  lectures, 
according  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  of  England.  And  in 
order  to  make  his  pious  labours  extensively  beneficial,  he  invited 
the  children  of  all  the  surrounding  parishes,  to  get  the  book  of 
psalms  by  heart.  To  encourage  them  to  this  performance,  i-adi 
was  presented  with  a  psalter :  all  were  to  repair  to  Gidding  every 
Sunday  morning,  and  each  was  to  repeat  his  psalm,  till  they  could 
all  repeat  the  whole  book.  These  psalm-children,  as  they  WITC 
called,  more  than  a  hundred  in  number,  received  every  Sunday, 
according  to  the  proficiency  of  each,  a  small  pecuniary  reward  and 
a  dinner,  which  was  conducted  with  great  regularity.  For,  win -n 
they  returned  from  church,  long  trestles  were  placed  in  the  middle 
of  the  great  hall,  round  which  the  children  stood  in  great  order. 
Mrs.  Ferrar,  and  her  family  then  came  in  to  see  them  scrv«-d. 
The  servants  brought  in  baked  puddings  and  nu-at  :  whk-h  was 
tin  only  repast  provided  on  Sundays  for  the  whole  family,  that  all 
might  have  an  opportunity  of  attending  divine  service  at  church, 
then  set  on  tin-  tir>t  di>h  herself,  to  give  an  example  of 


humility.  Grace  was  said,  and  then  the  bell  rang  for  the  family, 
who  thereupon  repaired  to  the  great  dining-room,  and  stood  in  order 
round  the  table.  Whilst  the  dinner  was  serving,  they  sang  a 
hymn  to  the  organ :  then  grace  was  said  by  the  minister  of  the 
parish,  and  they  sat  down.  During  dinner  one  of  the  younger 
people,  whose  turn  it  was,  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  and  when 
that  was  finished,  another  recited  some  chosen  story  out  of  the 
book  of  martyrs,  or  Mr.  Ferrar's  short  histories.  When  the 
dinner  was  finished  throughout  the  family,  at  two  o'clock  the  bell 
summoned  them  to  church  to  evening  service,  whither  they  went 
in  a  regular  form  of  procession,  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  sometimes  leading 
his  mother,  sometimes  going  last  in  the  train :  and  having  all 
returned  from  church  in  the  same  form,  thus  ended  the  public 
employment  of  every  Sunday. 

Immediately  after  church  the  family  all  went  into  the  oratory, 
where  select  portions  of  the  psalms  were  repeated,  and  then  all 
were  at  liberty  till  five  o'clock :  at  which  hour  in  summer,  and 
six  in  the  winter,  the  bell  called  them  to  supper :  where  all  the 
ceremonial  was  repeated  exactly  the  same  as  at  dinner.  After 
supper  they  were  again  at  liberty  till  eight,  when  the  bell  sum- 
moned them  all  into  the  oratory,  where  they  sang  a  hymn  to  the 
organ,  and  went  to  prayers  ;  when  the  children  asked  blessing 7 

7  Asked  blessing. ,]  Compare  above,  p.  182.  This  beautiful  and  pious  cus- 
tom, no  small  grace,  ornament,  and  blessing,  in  the  families  of  our  ancestors 
(compare  vol.  ii.  pp.  72,  73,  of  this  collection),  appears  to  have  received  its  first 
shock,  about  this  period,  and  during  the  Cromwellian  usurpation ;  an  interval 
in  which,  as  it  might  easily  be  shown,  a  considerable  portion  of  the  best  of 
our  old  English  manners,  and  many  practices,  which  were  themselves  part  of, 
and  instruments  of  piety,  were  exploded,  and  lost,  by  being  branded  under 
the  odious  name  of  popery.  "  The  having  of  god-fathers  at  baptism,  church- 
ing of  women,  prayers  at  the  burial  of  the  dead,  children  asking  their  parents' 
blessing,  &c.,  which  whilom  were  held  innocent  were  now  by  very  many  thrown 
aside,  as  rags  of  popery.  Nay,  are  not  some  gone  so  far  already,  as  to  cast 
into  the  same  heap,  not  only  the  ancient  hymn  Gloria  Patri  (for  the  repeating 
whereof  alone  some  have  been  deprived  of  all  their  livelihoods),  and  the 
Apostles'  Creed:  but  even  the  use  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  itself?" — Preface  to 
Sanderson's  Sermons,  dated  July  13,  1657,  p.  73,  edit.  1689.  Yet,  it  is  con- 
solatory to  find,  that  there  were  some  happy  families,  of  the  most  pious  and 
excellent  of  the  non-conformists,  who  were  not  deterred  by  that  malignant, 
senseless,  and  fatal  plea,  from  persevering  in  this  devotion  and  homage  to  the 
Father  of  Spirits,  so  congenial  to  his  temper  and  example,  who  commanded 
the  young  children  to  be  brought  unto  him,  who  blamed  those  that  would 
have  kept  them  from  him,  who  embraced  them  in  his  arms,  laid  his  hands 
upon  them  and  blessed  them.  "  Immediately  after  the  prayer  was  ended  " 


of  their  parents,  and  then  all  the  family  retired  to  their  re- 
spective apartments  ;  and  thus  ended  the  private  observation  of 
the  sabbath. 

On  the  first  Sunday  of  every  month  they  always  had  a  commu- 
nion, which  was  administered  by  the  clergyman  of  the  adjoining 
parish ;  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  assisting  as  deacon.  All  the  servants  who 
then  received  the  communion,  when  dinner  was  brought  up,  re- 
mained in  the  room,  and  on  that  day  dined  at  the  same  table  with 
Mrs.  Ferrar,  and  the  rest  of  the  family. 

That  I  may  not  be  thought  to  conceal  any  thing  which  brought 
censure  upon  them,  and  led  to  their  persecution,  I  will  here  insert 
the  particular  mode  of  their  processions,  and  other  circumstances 
which  were  condemned  by  some  as  being  superstitious.  I  shall 
not  pass  any  judgment  myself  on  these  ceremonials,  relating  mere 
matter  of  fact,  and  observing  only  that  where  there  was  error,  it 
was  error  on  the  side  of  virtue  and  goodness. 

When  their  early  devotions  in  the  oratory  were  finished  they 
proceeded  to  church  in  the  following  order : 

First,  the  three  school-masters,  in  black  gowns  and  Monmouth 

Then,  Mrs.  Ferraris  grandsons,  clad  in  the  same  manner,  two 
and  two. 

Then  her  son  Mr.  J.  Ferrar,  and  her  son-in-law  Mr.  Collet,  in 
the  same  dress. 

Then,  Mr.  N.  Ferrar,  in  surplice,  hood,  and  square  cap,  some- 
times leading  his  mother. 

Then,  Mrs.  Collet,  and  all  her  daughters,  two  and  two. 

Then,  all  the  servants,  two  and  two.  The  dress  of  all  \\a-> 

Then,  on  Sundays,  all  the  psalm-children,  two  and  two. 

As  they  came  into  the  church,  every  person  made  a  low  obei- 
sance, and  all  took  their  appointed  places.  The  masters,  and 
gentlemen  in  the  chancel :  the  youths  knelt  on  the  tipper  step  of 
the  half  pace :  Mrs.  Ferrar,  her  daughters,  and  all  her  grand- 
fas  we  are  told  by  the  celebrated  Matthew  Henry,  in  the  life  of  his  father, 
Mr.  Philip  Henry),  "his  children  together, with  bended  knee, asked  blessings 
of  him  and  their  mother;  that  is,  desired  of  them  to  pray  to  God  to  bless 
them  ;  which  blessing  was  given  with  great  solemnity  and  affection  ;  and  if 
any  of  them  were  absent  they  were  remembered  ;  The  Lord  blfss  you  and 
your  brother  ;  or  you  and  your  sister  that  is  absent.'1  P.  56,  edit.  1699.  Com- 
pare Christian  Institutes,  vol.  iv.  p.  561,  2  ;  Sanderson,  ami  n. 


daughters  in  a  fair  island-seat.  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  at  coming  in 
made  a  low  obeisance ;  a  few  paces  farther,  a  lower ;  and  at  the 
half-pace,  a  lower  still :  then  went  into  the  reading-desk,  and 
read  matins  according  to  the  book  of  common  prayer.  This  ser- 
vice over,  they  returned  in  the  same  order,  and  with  the  same 
solemnity.  This  ceremonial  was  regularly  observed  every  Sunday, 
and  that  on  every  common  day  was  nearly  the  same.  They  rose 
at  four  ;  at  five  went  to  the  oratory  to  prayers ;  at  six,  said  the 
psalms  of  the  hour,  (for  every  hour  had  its  appointed  psalms,) 
with  some  portion  of  the  gospel,  till  Mr.  Ferrar  had  finished  his 
Concordance,  when  a  chapter  of  that  work  was  substituted  in 
place  of  the  portion  of  the  gospel.  Then  they  sang  a  short  hymn, 
repeated  some  passages  of  Scripture,  and  at  half  past  six  went  to 
church  to  matins.  At  seven  said  the  psalms  of  the  hour,  sang 
the  short  hymn,  and  went  to  breakfast.  Then  the  young  people 
repaired  to  their  respective  places  of  instruction.  At  ten,  to 
church  to  the  litany.  At  eleven  to  dinner.  At  which  seasons 
were  regular  readings  in  rotation,  from  the  Scripture,  from  the 
book  of  martyrs,  and  from  short  histories  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Ferrar, 
and  adapted  to  the  purpose  of  moral  instruction.  Recreation  was 
permitted  till  one ;  instruction  was  continued  till  three.  Church 
at  four,  for  evensong ;  supper  at  five,  or  sometimes  six.  Diver- 
sions till  eight.  Then  prayers  in  the  oratory :  and  afterwards  all 
retired  to  their  respective  apartments.  To  preserve  regularity  in 
point  of  time,  Mr.  Ferrar  invented  dials  in  painted  glass  in  every 
room ;  he  had  also  sundials,  elegantly  painted  with  proper  mottos, 
on  every  side  of  the  church :  and  he  provided  an  excellent  clock 
to  a  sonorous  bell. 

The  short  histories  alluded  to  above  were  probably  composed 
on  the  occasion,  and  to  suit  some  present  purpose.  Those  which 
are  still  remaining  in  my  possession  are  put  together  without  any 
regularity  of  series,  or  any  dependance  of  one  upon  another,  and 
are  as  in  the  catalogue  annexed8. 

8  LIVES. 

[The  life  of  Monica.  Of  Dr.  Whitaker. 

Of  Abraham.  Of  Scaliger. 

Of  Elizer.  Of  Mr.  Perkins. 

Of  Lady  Paula.  Of  Dr.  Metcalf. 

Of  Hyldegardis.  Of  Sir  Fran.  Drake. 

Of  Paracelsus.  Of  Mr.  Cambden. 


These  lives,  characters,  and  moral  essays  would,  I  think,  fill 

Of  Haman.  Of  Gus.  Adolphus. 

Of  Wolsey.  Of  the  Black  Prince. 

Of  Brandon  D.  of  Suffolk.  Of  Joan  Q.  of  Naples. 

The  life  of  Ld.  Burleigh.  Of  the  Witch  of  Endor. 

Of  Sir  J.  Markham.  Of  Joan  of  Arc. 

Of  St.  Augustin.  Of  Caesar  Borgia. 

Of  Bp.  Ridley.  Of  Jehu. 

Of  L.  Jane  Grey.  Of  Andronicus  Comnenus. 

Of  Q.  Elizabeth.  Of  the  Duke  of  Alva. 


The  good  Wife.  The  good  Sea-Captain. 

The  good  Husband.  The  good  Herald. 

The  good  Parent.  The  true  Gentleman. 

The  good  Child.  The  Favourite. 

The  good  Master.  The  wise  Statesman. 

The  good  Servant.  The  good  Judge. 

The  good  Widow.  The  good  Bishop. 

The  constant  Virgin.  The  true  Nobleman. 

The  elder  Brother.  The  Court  Lady. 

The  younger  Brother.  The  Embassadour. 

The  good  Advocate.  The  good  General. 

The  good  Physician.  The  Heir  Apparent  to  the  Crown. 

The  controversial  Divines.  The  King. 

The  true  Church  antiquary.  The  Harlot. 

The  general  Artist.  The  Witch. 

The  faithful  Minister.  The  Atheist. 

The  good  Parishioner.  The  Hypocrite. 

The  good  Patron.  The  Heretic. 

The  good  Landlord.  The  rigid  Donatist. 

The  good  Mar  of  a  College.  The  Liar. 

The  good  Schoolmaster.  The  common  Barreter. 

The  good  Merchant.  The  degenerous  Gentleman. 

The  good  Yeoman.  The  Pazzians  Conspiracy  *. 

The  Handicrafts  Man.  The  Tyrant. 

The  good  Soldier. 



1.  Of  Hospitality.  3.  Of  Self-praising. 

2.  Of  Jesting.    '  4.  Of  Travelling. 

1  Paztiant  Conspiracy.]  The  conspiracy,  at  the  head  of  which  were  pope 
I IV,  and  his  nephew,  Girolamo  Riario,  which  was  formed  by  Francesco 
de'  Pazzi,  to  assassinate  Lorenzo  and  Giuliano  de'  Medici,  in  April,  14/8. 


two  or  three  volumes  in  octavo 2.  They  are  but  a  small  part  of 
the  MS.  works  which  Mr.  Ferrar  left  behind  him,  which,  as 
appears  from  some  papers  still  existing,  amounted  to  five  volumes 
in  folio.  He  was  of  opinion  that  instruction  merely  by  precept 
might  sometimes  become  dry  and  wearisome,  and  therefore  was 
desirous  to  enliven  his  lectures  by  something  that  might  give 
pleasure  to  the  fancy  at  the  same  time  that  it  conveyed  wisdom 
to  the  heart.  But  he  had  great  objection  to  plays,  novels,  and 
romances,  and  to  poems,  that  were  then,  and  indeed  have  ever 
since  been  in  great  esteem-  He  thought  that  in  many  instances 
they  did  not  tend  to  the  important  point  which  he  had  in  view. 
But  he  reflected  also  that  our  Saviour  himself  frequently  delivered 
his  discourses  in  parables  ;  and  therefore  that  fable,  to  a  certain 
degree,  might  be  admitted  in  moral  instruction.  With  this  view 
he  composed  those  stories,  and  essays,  which  were  intended  to 
enliven  their  readings,  and  conversations.  Beside  these,  he  drew 
up  regular  discourses  upon  all  the  fasts  and  feasts  of  the  church, 
and  these  also  in  their  order  made  part  of  the  readings.  Every 
one  of  the  young  people,  from  the  eldest  to  the  youngest,  male 
and  female,  was  exercised  every  day  in  these  public  readings,  and 
repetitions :  by  which  the  memory  was  wonderfully  strengthened, 
and  they  all  attained  great  excellence  in  speaking  with  propriety 
and  grace. 

But  now  four  of  Mr.  Collet's  eldest  daughters  being  grown  up 
to  woman's  estate,  to  perfect  them  in  the  practice  of  good  house- 


5.  Of  Company.  16.  Of  Plantations. 

6.  Of  Apparel.  17.  Of  Contentment. 

7.  Of  Building.  18.  Of  Books. 

8.  Of  Anger.  19.  Of  Time-serving. 

9.  Of  expecting  Preferment.  20.  Of  Moderation. 

10.  Of  Memory.  21.  Of  Gravity. 

11.  Of  Fancy.  22.  Of  Marriage. 

12.  Of  Natural  Fools.  23.  Of  Fame. 

13.  Of  Recreations.  24.  Of  the  antiquity  of  Churches,  and 

14.  Of  Tombs.  the  necessity  of  them. 

15.  Of  Deformities.  25.  Of  Ministers  Maintenance.] 

3  In  octavo."]  The  probability  however  is,  that  the  greater  part,  if  not  the 
whole  of  this  catalogue,  were  not  original,  but  extracts  :  as  Dr.  Peckard 
would  have  been  able  to  satisfy  himself  by  consulting  Fuller's  Holy  State, 
fol.,  where  many  of  the  titles  of  the  chapters  exactly  correspond  with  those 
in  this  catalogue. 

VOL.  iv.  o 


wifery,  Mr.  Ferrar  appointed  them  in  rotation  to  take  the  whole 
charge  of  the  domestic  oeconomy.  Each  had  this  care  for  a 
month,  when  her  accounts  were  regularly  passed,  allowed,  and 
delivered  over  to  the  next  in  succession.  There  was  also  the 
same  care  and  regularity  required  with  respect  to  the  surgeon's 
chest ;  and  the  due  provision  of  medicines  and  all  things  neces- 
sary for  those  who  were  sick,  or  hurt  by  any  misfortune.  A  con- 
venient apartment  was  provided  for  those  of  the  family  who 
chanced  to  be  indisposed,  called  the  infirmary,  where  they  might 
be  attended,  and  properly  taken  care  of,  without  disturbance 
from  any  part  of  the  numerous  family.  A  large  room  was  nl-o 
set  apart  for  the  reception  of  the  medicines,  and  of  those  who 
were  brought  in  sick,  or  hurt,  and  wanted  immediate  assistance. 
The  young  ladies  were  required  to  dress  the  wounds  of  those  who 
were  hurt,  in  order  to  give  them  readiness  and  skill  in  this 
employment,  and  to  habituate  them  to  the  virtues  of  humility 
and  tenderness  of  heart 3.  The  office  relative  to  pharmacy,  the 
weekly  inspection,  the  prescription,  and  administration  of  medi- 
cines, Mr.  Ferrar  reserved  to  himself,  being  an  excellent  physi- 
cian :  as  he  had  for  many  years  attentively  studied  the  theory, 
and  practice  of  medicine,  both  when  physic  fellow  at  Clare-hall, 
and  under  the  celebrated  professors  at  Padua.  In  this  way  \\  a> 
a  considerable  part  of  their  income  disposed  of,  and  thus  did  Mr. 
Ferrar  form  his  nieces  to  be  wise  and  useful,  virtuous,  and  valu- 
able women. 

3  Tenderness  of  heart.']  In  the  Reliques  of  ancient  English  poetry  we  read 
"  As  to  what  will  be  observed  in  this  ballad  (Sir  Cauline)  of  the  art  of  healing 
being  practised  by  a  young  princess,  it  is  no  more  than  what  is  usual  in  all 
the  old  romances,  and  was  conformable  to  real  manners  ;  it  being  a  practice 
derived  from  the  earliest  times  among  all  the  Gothic  and  Celtic  nations,  for 
women  even  of  the  highest  rank  to  exercise  the  art  of  surgery.  In  the 
northern  chronicles  we  always  find  the  young  damsels  stanching  the  wounds 
of  their  lovers,  and  the  wives  those  of  their  husbands.  And  even  so  late  as 
the  time  of  queen  Elizabeth  it  is  mentioned,  among  the  accomplishments  of 
the  ladies  of  her  court,  that  the  eldest  of  them  are  skilfull  in  surgery."- 
Rel.  of  Ant.  Eng.  Poetry.  Introd.  to  Sir  Cauline,  p.  39. 

"  I  could  set  down  the  ways  and  means  whereby  our  ancient  ladies  of  the 
court  do  shun  and  avoid  idleness,  while  the  youngest  sort  applie  to  their 
lutes,  citharnes,  prick-song,  and  all  kinds  of  music  :  how  many  of  the  eldest 
sort  also  are  skilfull  in  surgery,  and  distillation  of  waters,  &c.  I  might 
easily  declare,  but  I  pass  over  such  manner  of  dealing,  lest  I  should  seem  to 
glavcr,  and  currie  favour  with  some  of  them." — Harrison's  Descrip.  of  Eny. 
before  linllingshtad's  Chron.  p.  196,  col.  ii.  1.  Jo. 


In  order  to  give  some  variety  to  this  system  of  education,  he 
formed  the  family  into  a  sort  of  collegiate  institution,  of  which 
one  was  considered  as  the  founder,  another  guardian,  a  third  as 
moderator,  and  himself  as  visitor  of  this  little  academy.  The 
seven  virgin  daughters  formed  the  junior  part  of  this  society,  were 
called  The  Sisters 4,  and  assumed  the  names  of,  1st.  The  Chief. 
2d.  The  Patient.  3d.  The  Chearful.  4th.  The  Affectionate. 
5th.  The  Submiss.  6th.  The  Obedient.  7th.  The  Moderate. 
These  all  had  their  respective  characters  to  sustain,  and  exercises 
to  perform  suited  to  those  characters. 

For  the  Christmas  season  of  the  year  1631,  he  composed  twelve 
excellent  discourses,  five  suited  to  the  festivals  within  the  twelve 
days,  and  seven  to  the  assumed  name  and  character  of  the  sis- 
ters. These  were  enlivened  by  hymns  and  odes  composed  by  Mr. 
Ferrar,  and  set  to  music  by  the  music  master  of  the  family,  who 
accompanied  the  voices  with  the  viol,  or  the  lute.  That  exercise 
which  was  to  be  performed  by  the  Patient,  is  alone  to  be  excepted. 
There  was  not  any  poetry,  or  music  at  the  opening  of  this  as 
of  all  the  rest :  the  discourse  itself  was  of  a  very  serious  turn,  it 
was  much  longer  than  any  other,  and  had  not  any  historical 
anecdote,  or  fable  interwoven  into  the  body  of  it.  The  con- 
trivance here  was  to  exercise  that  virtue  which  it  was  intended  to 

Upon  the  whole,  these  and  many  other  dialogues,  conversa- 
tions, histories,  fables,  and  essays,  which  Nicholas  Ferrar  penned 
for  the  immediate  use  of  his  family,  and  left  behind  him  in  many 
large  volumes,  if  ever  the  world  should  be  so  happy  as  to  see 
them,  will  best  show  what  he  was,  a  man  every  way  so  complete, 
that  few  ages  have  brought  forth  his  equal ;  whether  we  con- 
sider his  vast  memory,  his  deep  judgment,  his  rare  contrivance, 
or  the  elegance  of  stile  in  the  matter,  and  manner  of  his  com- 

Amongst  other  articles  of  instruction  and  amusement  Mr. 
Ferrar  entertained  an  ingenious  bookbinder  who  taught  the 
family,  females  as  well  as  males,  the  whole  art  and  skill  of  book- 
binding, gilding,  lettering,  and  what  they  called  pasting-printing, 
by  the  use  of  the  rolling-press.  By  this  assistance  he  composed 

4  The  Sisters."]  A  paper  of  "  Remains  of  the  Maiden- Sisters'  Exercises  at 
Little-Gidding "  is  given  by  Thos.  Hearne  in  his  Caii  Vindicia,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  713 — 94.  It  consists  principally  of  Discourses  and  Histories  suitable  to 
the  seasons  of  Lent,  Christmas,  and  Advent. 

o  2 


a  full  harmony,  or  concordance  of  the  four  evangelists,  adorned 
with  many  beautiful  pictures,  which  required  more  than  a  year 
for  the  composition,  and  was  divided  into  150  heads  or  chapters. 
For  this  purpose  he  set  apart  a  handsome  room  near  the  oratory. 
Here  he  had  a  large  table,  two  printed  copies  of  the  evangelists, 
of  the  same  edition,  and  great  store  of  the  best  and  strongest 
white  paper.  Here  he  spent  more  than  an  hour  every  day  in  the 
contrivance  of  this  book,  and  in  directing  his  nieces,  who  attended 
him  for  that  purpose,  how  they  should  cut  out  such  and  such 
particular  passages  out  of  the  two  printed  copies  of  any  part  of 
each  evangelist,  and  then  lay  them  together  so  as  to  perfect  such 
a  head  or  chapter  as  he  had  designed.  This  they  did  first  roughly, 
and  then  with  nice  knives  and  scissars  so  neatly  fitted  each  pas- 
sage to  the  next  belonging  to  it,  and  afterwards  pasted  them  so 
even  and  smoothly  together,  upon  large  sheets  of  the  best  white 
paper,  by  the  help  of  the  rolling-press,  that  many  curious  persons 
who  saw  the  work  when  it  was  done,  were  deceived,  and  thought 
that  it  had  been  printed  in  the  ordinary  way.  This  was  the 
mechanical  method  which  he  followed  in  compiling  his  harmony. 
The  title  of  his  book  *  was  as  foEows  : 

"The  Actions,  Doctrines,  and  other  passages  touching  our 
blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  J.  Christ,  as  they  are  related  in  the 
four  Evangelists,  reduced  into  one  compleat  body  of  history: 
wherein  that  which  is  severally  related  by  them  is  digested  into 
order ;  and  that  which  is  jointly  related  by  all  or  any  of  them  is, 
first,  expressed  in  their  own  words,  by  way  of  comparison ; 
secondly,  brought  into  one  narration  by  way  of  composition; 
thirdly,  extracted  into  one  clear  context  by  way  of  collection ; 
yet  so  as  whatsoever  was  omitted  in  the  context  is  inserted  by 
way  of  supplement  in  another  print,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  all 
the  four  evangelists  may  be  easily  read  severally  and  distinctly ; 
each  apart  and  alone  from  first  to  last :  and  in  each  page  through- 
out the  book  are  sundry  pictures  added,  expressing  either  the 
facts  themselves,  or  their  types  and  figures;  or  other  things 
Appertaining  thereunto.  The  whole  divided  into  150  heads." 

I  cannot  help  transcribing  here  a  passage  from  Dr.  Priestley's 
pn-face  to  his  Harmony  of  the  Evangelists.  "If  I  should  be 
thought  to  have  succeeded  better  than  the  generality  of  my  pre- 
decessors, I  shall  attribute  it  chiefly  to  the  mechanical 

s  His  book.']  See  p.  218. 


I  made  use  of  in  the  arrangement  of  it ;  which  were  as  follow.  I 
procured  two  printed  copies  of  the  gospel,  and  having  cancelled 
one  side  of  every  sheet,  I  cut  out  all  the  separate  histories,  &c. 
in  each  gospel,  and  having  a  large  table  appropriated  to  that  use, 
I  placed  all  the  corresponding  parts  opposite  to  each  other,  and 
in  such  an  order  as  the  comparison  of  them  (which  when 
they  were  brought  so  near  together  was  exceedingly  easy) 

"  In  this  loose  order  the  whole  harmony  lay  before  me  a  con- 
siderable time,  in  which  I  kept  reviewing  it  at  my  leisure,  and 
changing  the  places  of  the  several  parts  of  it,  till  I  was  as  well 
satisfied  with  the  arrangement  of  them,  as  the  nature  of  the  case 
would  admit.  I  then  fixed  the  places  of  all  these  separate  papers, 
by  pasting  them,  in  the  order  in  which  they  lay  before  me,  upon 
different  pieces  of  pasteboard,  carefully  numbered  and  by  this 
means  also  divided  into  sections." 

This  exact  agreement  in  contrivance  between  two  men  of  un- 
common genius  and  abilities,  with  respect  both  to  the  plan  and 
conduct  of  the  work  ;  men  living  at  a  hundred  and  sixty  years 
difference  of  time,  men  too  in  learning,  penetration,  and  judgment 
perfectly  qualified  for  so  arduous  an  undertaking,  affords  the 
strongest  presumptive  proof  of  the  excellence  of  the  method, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  highest  recommendation  of  it  to  the 
observation  and  practice  of  all  who  are  engaged  in  a  similar 
course  of  study. 

Several  of  the  harmonies  were  afterward  finished  upon  the 
same  plan  with  some  improvements :  one  of  these  books  was  pre- 
sented to  Mr.  Ferrar's  most  dear  and  intimate  friend,  the  well 
known  Mr.  Geo.  Herbert,  who  in  his  letter  of  thanks  for  it,  calls 
it  a  most  inestimable  jewel ;  another  was  given  to  his  other  sin- 
gular friend  Dr.  Jackson.  The  fame  of  this  work,  the  produc- 
tion of  a  man  so  celebrated  as  the  author  had  been,  soon  reached 
the  ears  of  the  king,  who  took  the  first  opportunity  to  make  him- 
self personally  acquainted  with  it,  by  obtaining  the  perusal  of  it. 

Mr.  Ferrar  about  this  time  wrote  several  very  valuable  trea- 
tises, and  made  several  translations  from  authors  in  different 
languages,  on  subjects  which  he  thought  might  prove  serviceable 
to  the  cause  of  religion.  Among  others,  having  long  had  a  high 
opinion  of  John  Valdesso's  Hundred  and  ten  Considerations 6,  &c. 

6  Hundred  and  ten  Considerations.]  See  note  at  p.  47. 


a  book  which  he  met  with  in  his  travels,  he  now  (in  1632)  trans- 
lated it  from  the  Italian  copy  into  English,  and  sent  it  to  be  exa- 
mined and  censured  by  his  friend  Mr.  Herbert,  before  it  was 
made  public.  Which  excellent  book  Mr.  Herbert  returned  with 
many  marginal  notes,  and  criticisms,  as  they  are  now  printed 
with  it ;  with  an  affectionate  letter  also  recommending  the  publi- 

In  May,  1633,  his  majesty  set  out  upon  his  journey  to  Scot- 
land, and  in  his  progress  he  stepped  a  little  out  of  his  road  to 
view  Little  Gidding  in  Huntingdonshire,  which  by  the  common 
people  was  called  the  Protestant  Nunnery.  The  family  having 
notice,  met  his  majesty  at  the  extremity  of  the  parish,  at  a  place 
called,  from  this  event,  the  King's  Close :  and  in  the  form  of 
their  solemn  processions  conducted  him  to  their  church,  which 
he  viewed  with  great  pleasure.  He  enquired  into,  and  was  in- 
formed of  the  particulars  of  their  public,  and  domestic  oeconomy : 
but  it  does  not  appear  that  at  this  time  he  made  any  considerable 
stay.  The  following  summer  his  majesty  and  the  queen  passed 
two  nights  at  Apethorpe  in  Northamptonshire,  the  seat  of  Mild- 
may  Fane  earl  of  Westmoreland.  From  thence  he  sent  one  of 
his  gentlemen  to  intreat  (his  majesty's  own  word)  a  sight  of  The 
Concordance,  which,  he  had  heard,  was  some  time  since  done  at 
Gidding ;  with  assurance  that  in  a  few  days,  when  he  had  per- 
used it,  he  would  send  it  back  again.  Mr.  N.  Ferrar  was  then 
in  London,  and  the  family  made  some  little  demur,  not  thinking 
it  worthy  to  be  put  into  his  majesty's  hands ;  but  at  length  they 
delivered  it  to  the  messenger.  But  it  was  not  returned  in  a  few 
days,  or  weeks :  some  months  were  elapsed,  when  the  gentleman 
brought  it  back  from  the  king,  who  was  then  at  London.  He 
said  he  had  many  things  to  deliver  to  the  family  from  his  master. 
First,  to  yield  the  king's  hearty  thanks  to  them  all  for  the  sight 
of  the  book,  which  passed  the  report  he  had  heard  of  it.  Then 
to  signify  his  approbation  of  it  in  all  respects.  Next  to  excuse 
him  in  two  points.  The  first  for  not  returning  it  so  soon  as  he 
had  promised :  the  other  for  that  he  had  in  many  places  of  the 
-I'in  written  notes  in  it  with  his  own  hand.  And  (which  I 
know  will  please  you)  said  the  gentleman,  you  will  find  an  insta 
"f  my  master's  humility  in  one  of  the  margins.  The  place  I 
i>  \\  In  TO  he  had  written  something  with  his  own  hand,  and 
tin  n  put  it  out  again,  acknowledging  that  he  was  mistaken  in 
that  particular.  Certainly  this  was  .m  act  of  great  humility  in 


the  king,  and  worthy  to  be  noted ;  and  the  book  itself  is  much 
graced  by  it. 

The  gentleman  farther  told  them,  that  the  king  took  such  de- 
light in  it,  that  he  passed  some  part  of  every  day  in  perusing  it. 
And  lastly,  he  said,  to  show  you  how  true  this  is,  and  that  what 
I  have  declared  is  no  court  compliment,  I  am  expressly  com- 
manded by  my  master,  earnestly  to  request  of  you,  Mr.  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  and  of  the  young  ladies,  that  you  would  make  him  one  of 
these  books  for  his  own  use,  and  if  you  will  please  to  undertake 
it,  his  majesty  says  you  will  do  him  a  most  acceptable  service. 

Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar  and  the  young  ladies  returned  their  most 
humble  duty,  and  immediately  set  about  what  the  king  desired. 
In  about  a  year's  time  it  was  finished ;  and  it  was  sent  to  Lon- 
don to  be  presented  to  his  majesty  by  Dr.  Laud,  then  made  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  and  Dr.  Cosins,  master  of  Peterhouse, 
whose  turn  it  was  to  wait  that  month,  being  one  of  the  king^s 
chaplains.  This  book  was  bound  entirely  by  Mary  Collet  (one  of 
Mr.  Ferrar's  nieces)  all  wrought  in  gold,  in  a  new  and  most 
elegant  fashion. 

The  king  after  long  and  serious  looking  it  over,  said,  "  This  is 
indeed  a  most  valuable  work,  and  in  many  respects  worthy  to  be 
presented  to  the  greatest  prince  upon  earth.  For  the  matter  it 
contains  is  the  richest  of  all  treasures.  The  laborious  composure 
of  it  into  this  excellent  form  of  an  harmony ;  the  judicious  con- 
trivance of  the  method,  the  curious  workmanship  in  so  neatly 
cutting  out  and  disposing  the  text,  the  nice  laying  of  these  costly 
pictures,  and  the  exquisite  art  expressed  in  the  binding,  are,  I 
really  think,  not  to  be  equalled.  I  must  acknowledge  myself  to 
be  indeed  greatly  indebted  to  the  family  for  this  jewel :  and  what- 
ever is  in  my  power,  I  shall  at  any  time  be  ready  to  do  for  any 
of  them." 

Then  after  some  pause,  taking  the  book 7  into  his  hands  he 
said,  "  And  what  think  you,  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  and  you  Dr. 
Cosins,  if  I  should  ask  a  second  favour  of  these  good  people  2 
indeed  I  have  another  request  to  make  to  them,  and  it  is  this. 
I  often  read  over  the  lives  and  actions  of  the  kings  of  Judah 

7  Taking  the  book.~\  This,  and  another  of  these  books,  both  in  fine  preser- 
vation, are  still  extant  in  the  British  Museum  (as  I  am  obligingly  informed 
by  John  Holmes,  Esq.,  one  of  the  librarians,  to  whom  I  am  very  largely 
indebted,  in  the  entire  progress  of  this  third  edition  [1839]  through  the  press), 
and  is  part  of  the  royal  collection  given  by  king  George  II.  to  the  Museum, 
at  its  foundation.  See  pp.  218,  219. 


and  Israel  in  the  books  of  the  Kings,  and  the  Chronicles,  and  I 
frequently  meet  with  difficulties.  I  should  be  much  obliged  if 
Mr.  Ferrar  would  make  me  such  a  book  as  may  bring  all  these 
matters  together  into  one  regular  narration,  that  I  may  read  the 
whole  in  one  continued  story,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  may  be 
able  to  see  them  separate ;  or  what  belongs  to  one  book,  and 
what  to  another.  I  have  long  ago  moved  several  of  my  chap- 
lains to  undertake  this  business  :  but  it  is  not  done :  I  suppose  it 
is  attended  with  too  much  difficulty.  Will  you,  my  lord,  apply 
for  me  to  Mr.  Ferrar  V  The  archbishop  wrote  to  Mr.  Ferrar, 
acquainting  him  with  the  king's  desires  ;  and  Mr.  Ferrar  imme- 
diately set  himself  about  the  work. 

In  the  course  of  little  more  than  a  year,  about  Oct.  1636, 
Mr.  Ferrar  and  his  assistants  completed  the  harmony  of  the  two 
books  of  the  Kings  and  Chronicles,  and  young  Nicholas  Ferrar 
bound  it  in  purple  velvet,  most  richly  gilt.  It  was  sent  to  the 
archbishop  and  Dr.  Cosins,  to  be  by  them  presented  to  the  king. 
His  majesty  was  extremely  delighted  with  it,  saying,  "  it  was  a 
fit  mirror  for  a  king's  daily  inspection.  Herein,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
behold  God's  mercies  and  judgments :  his  punishing  of  evil 
princes,  and  rewarding  the  good.  To  these  his  promises,  to 
those  his  threatenings  most  surely  accomplished.  I  have  a 
second  time  gained  a  great  treasure.  What  I  said  of  the  first 
book,  I  may  most  justly  say  of  this ;  and  I  desire  you  will  let 
them  know  my  high  esteem  both  of  it  and  of  them."  Dr.  Cosins 
then  presented  a  letter  from  Mr.  Ferrar,  which  the  king  declared 
he  thought  the  finest  composition  he  ever  read.  In  farther  dis- 
coursing of  these  harmonies  with  the  divines,  the  king  determined 
that  for  public  benefit  they  should  be  printed  under  his  own 
immediate  command  and  protection.  But  the  troubles  of  the 
ensuing  times  prevented  this  laudable  purpose  from  being  car- 
ried into  execution.  The  title  of  this  second  harmony  was  as 
follows  : 

"  The  History  of  the  Israelites  from  the  death  of  King  Saul, 
to  their  carrying  away  captive  into  Babylon  :  collected  out  of  the 
books  of  the  Kings,  and  Chronicles,  in  the  words  of  the  text, 
without  any  alteration  of  importance  by  addition  to  or  diminu- 
tion from  them.  Whereby,  first,  all  the  actions  and 
related  in  any  of  the  books  of  the  Kings  and  Chronicles,  whether 
jointly  or  severally,  are  reduced  into  the  body  of  one  complete 
narration.  Secondly,  they  are  digested  into  an  orderly  depend- 
ance  one  upon  the  other.  Thirdly,  many  difficult  places  are 


cleared,  and  many  seeming  differences  between  the  books  of 
Kings  and  Chronicles  compounded.  And  this  is  so  contrived,  as 
notwithstanding  the  mutual  compositions  of  the  books  into  one 
historical  collection,  yet  the  form  of  each  of  them  is  preserved 
entire,  in  such  a  manner  as  they  may  be  easily  read,  severally 
and  distinctly  from  first  to  last.  Together  with  several  tables. 
The  first,  summarily  declaring  the  several  heads  or  chapters  into 
which  the  historical  collection  is  divided.  The  second,  specifiying 
what  passages  are  related  severally  in  the  aforesaid  books,  and 
what  are  jointly  related  by  them  both  :  as  also  in  what  heads  and 
chapters  in  this  collection  they  may  be  found.  The  third,  shewing 
where  every  chapter  of  the  texts  themselves,  and  every  part  of 
them  may  be  readily  found  in  this  historical  collection." 

Fragments  of  one  copy  of  this,  and  some  other  of  the  harmo- 
nies, with  some  of  the  prints  belonging  to  them,  and  the  three 
tables  specified  in  the  title  above,  have  lately  been  found  among 
the  old  MSS.  of  the  family :  but  very  much  disjointed  and  con- 
fused, and  considerably  hurt  by  time  and  other  injuries. 

These  are  probably  the  last  works  of  this  sort,  executed  by 
Mr.  Ferrar,  who  died  in  little  more  than  a  year,  and  was  very 
weak  and  infirm  a  considerable  time  before  his  death.  But  the 
connexion  between  the  king  and  this  family  did  not  cease  on  Mr. 
Ferrar's  death.  For  it  appears  from  several  papers  still  in  being, 
that  there  was  what  may  be  justly  called  a  friendly  intercourse 
subsisting  even  till  the  distressful  year  1646.  For  during  this 
interval,  and  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Ferrar,  other  harmonies  of 
other  parts  of  the  Scripture  were  drawn  up  by  Nicholas  Ferrar 
jun.  upon  the  plan  of  his  uncle,  by  the  particular  direction  of  the 
king,  for  the  use  of  the  prince ;  and  were  to  him  presented  in  the 
years  1639, 1641,  and  at  other  times.  This  extraordinary  young 
man  was  particularly  favoured  by  the  king,  who  had  undertaken 
to  send  him  to  Oxford  under  his  own  immediate  protection ;  and 
to  take  upon  himself  the  care  and  expence  of  completing  his 
education.  But  his  ill  state  of  health  which  ended  in  an  early 
death,  prevented  the  execution  of  this  benevolent  intention.  The 
particular  memorials 8  of  this  intercourse  were  probably  lost  in 
the  ensuing  distractions. 

On  the  27th  of  April,  in  that  fatal  year  (1646)  the  king  left 

8  The  particular  memorials.']  These  memorials,  the  subject  deservedly  of 
Dr.  Peckard's  repeated  regret,  have  happily  been  preserved,  and  are  now 
published  here  from  a  MS.  (No.  251)  in  the  Lambeth  Library. 


Oxford.  Being  unresolved  how  to  dispose  of  himself,  he  shifted 
about  from  place  to  place,  with  his  trusty  chaplain,  Dr.  Hudson, 
and  at  length  came  to  Downham  in  Norfolk.  From  thence  he 
came  on  May  the  2nd  very  privately  and  in  the  night  to  Gidding. 
Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar  had  been  dead  several  years.  But  the  king 
having  an  entire  confidence  in  the  family,  made  himself  known  to 
Mr.  John  Ferrar,  who  received  his  majesty  with  all  possible  duty 
and  respect.  But  fearing  that  Gidding,  from  the  known  loyalty 
of  the  family,  might  be  a  suspected  place,  for  better  concealment 
he  conducted  his  majesty  to  a  private  house  at  Coppinford,  an 
obscure  village  at  a  small  distance  from  Gidding,  and  not  far 
from  Stilton.  Here  the  king  slept,  and  went  from  thence,  May 
3,  to  Stamford,  where  he  lodged  one  night,  staid  till  eleven  the 
next  night,  and  from  thence  went,  on  May  5,  to  the  Scotch  army. 

Of  the  king's  coming  at  this  time  in  this  state  of  distress 
to  Gidding,  I  collect  from  various  authorities  the  following 

In  the  examination  of  Dr.  Michael  Hudson,  taken  May  16, 
1646,  before  Henry  Dawson,  esq.  deputy  mayor  of  Newcastle 
upon  Tyne,  he  deposes  that  he  came  from  Oxford  on  Monday 
morning  about  3  o'clock,  April  27 ;  and  that  his  majesty,  Mr. 
Ashburnham,  and  himself,  made  use  of  an  old  pass,  which  they 
had  gotten  from  an  officer  in  Oxford.  That  they  went  first  to 
Dorchester,  then  to  Henley,  Maidenhead,  and  so  on  the  road 
toward  London :  but  he  refused  to  say  where  the  king  lodged  on 
Monday  night.  That  when  they  turned  to  go  northward,  his 
majesty  lodged  Tuesday,  Ap.  28,  at  Whethamstead  near  to  St. 
Albans.  That  from  thence  his  majesty  went  to  a  small  village 
within  seven  miles  from  Newmarket,  and  lodged  in  a  common 
inn,  Wednesday  29.  From  thence  they  went  to  a  place  called 
Downham,  where  his  majesty  lodged,  Thursday,  30.  From 
thence  to  Coppinford,  where  his  majesty  lodged,  Friday,  May  1. 
From  thence  to  Stamford,  May  2,  where  they  stayed  till  midnight. 
May  3.  Went  from  thence,  Monday,  May  4,  and  came  to  the 
Scotch  army,  Tuesday,  May  5. 

This  is  the  substance  of  the  examination  of  Dr.  Hudson  con- 
(•••ruing  the  king's  journey  from  Oxford  to  the  Scotch  army  9. 

•  Scotch  army.]  [Michael  Hudson  was  born  in  Westmoreland,  and  edu- 
cated in  Queen's  college,  Oxford.  In  1630  he  was  made  fellow  of  that  col- 
lege. He  was  afterwards  beneficed  in  Lincolnshire.  But  when  the  king  set 
up  his  standard  he  left  his  benefice  and  adhered  to  him.  After  the  battle  at 


In  the  letter  from  Miles  Corbett  and  Valentine  Walton  to 
Mr.  Lenthall  the  speaker,  directed,  Haste,  Haste,  Post  Haste, 
the  account  agrees  with  the  examination  of  Dr.  Hudson,  with 
respect  to  the  king's  coming  with  Hudson  to  Downham,  and 
lodging  there  on  Thursday  the  last  day  of  April,  but  states  that 
they  cannot  learn  where  they  were  on  Friday  night.  It  after- 
wards mentions  several  particular  circumstances,  as  their  being 
at  a  blind  alehouse  at  Crimplesham  about  eight  miles  from  Lynn, 
and  the  king's  being  in  a  parson's  habit,  and  changing  his  black 
coat  and  cassock  for  a  grey  one  procured  by  Mr.  Skipwith ;  and 
that  his  majesty  bought  a  new  hat  at  Downham.  But  these 
particulars  seemed  to  be  delivered  more  from  hearsay  accounts, 
than  regular  evidence.  The  main  purport  of  this  letter  confirms 
the  deposition  in  Dr.  Hudson's  examination,  that  the  king 
certainly  was  at  Downham,  on  the  last  of  April,  or  the  first  of 
May  :  and  in  fact  he  was  there  on  both  days,  coming  to  that 
place  on  the  last  of  April,  and  leaving  it  on  the  first  of  May. 

Mr.  Ferrar's  MS.  asserts  that  the  king  came  very  privately  to 
Gidding,  May  2.  Dr.  Hudson  says  the  king  slept  at  Coppinford, 

Edge-hill  he  retired  to  Oxford,  and  in  February,  1642,  was  created  D.D.  and 
made  chaplain  to  his  majesty.  Soon  after,  he  had  an  important  employment 
in  the  army,  in  the  north,  under  the  command  of  the  marquis  of  Newcastle. 
On  the  8th  of  June,  1646,  he  was  discovered  at  Rochester,  brought  to  Lon- 
don, and  committed  prisoner  to  London-house.  On  Nov.  18,  he  escaped 
from  his  prison,  and  in  January  following  he  was  retaken,  and  committed 
close  prisoner  to  the  Tower.  He  escaped  also  from  thence  in  the  beginning 
of  1648.  On  the  6th  of  June  that  year,  intelligence  was  brought  to  the  par- 
liament that  the  royalists  were  in  arms  in  Lincolnshire,  under  the  command 
of  Dr.  Hudson  ;  and  two  days  after,  information  came  from  col.  Tho.  Waite 
that  he  had  suppressed  the  insurrection  of  malignants  at  Stamford,  in  Lin- 
colnshire, and  had  killed  their  commander,  Dr.  Hudson. 

The  circumstances  of  his  death  were  attended  with  peculiar  barbarity.  He 
fled  with  the  chief  of  his  party  to  Woodcroft-house,  near  Peterborough.  The 
house  being  forced,  and  most  of  the  royalists  taken,  Hudson,  with  some  of 
the  most  courageous,  went  to  the  battlements,  where  they  defended  them- 
selves for  some  time.  At  length,  upon  promise  of  quarter,  they  yielded ;  but 
when  they  had  so  done,  the  promise  of  quarter  was  broken.  Hudson  being 
thrown  over  the  battlements,  caught  hold  of  a  spout,  or  out-stone,  and  there 
hung  :  but  his  hands  being  cut  off,  he  fell  into  the  moat  underneath,  much 
wounded,  and  desired  to  come  on  land  to  die  there.  As  he  approached  the 
shore,  one  of  his  enemies  beat  his  brains  out  with  the  butt  end  of  his  musket. 
See  A.  Wood,  vol.  ii.  col.  113.  See  also  the  interesting  papers  in  Peck's 
Desiderata  Curiosa,  b.  ix.  vol.  ii.  p.  347 — 81.  On  this  sir  Walter  Scott  has 
founded  the  story  of  Dr.  Rochecliffe  in  "  Woodstock." 


May  1.  These  two  accounts  may  easily  be  reconciled.  Dr. 
Hudson  reckons  the  night,  or  time  of  his  majesty"^  lodging  and 
sleeping,  as  belonging  to  the  preceding  day,  on  which  he  came 
from  Downham  or  Crimplesham,  which  was  May  the  first.  But 
as  the  king  came  very  privately  to  Gidding,  and  in  the  very  dead 
of  the  night ;  and  as  it  must  necessarily  require  some  time  to 
provide  for  his  lodging  at  Coppinford,  this  would  of  course  break 
into  the  morning  of  May  the  2nd :  and  Mr.  Ferrar  might  with 
equal  propriety  say  that  the  king  came  very  privately  to  Gidding, 
and  that  he  conducted  his  majesty  to  sleep  at  Coppinford,  May  2. 
These  circumstances  must  awaken  the  compassion  10  of  every 
feeling  heart,  even  amongst  those  who  are  disposed  to  lay  the 
heaviest  load  of  blame  upon  the  king  :  since  they  are  mentioned 
not  as  an  insinuation  that  he  was  free  from  faults,  or  as  an 
extenuation  of  those  with  which  he  might  be  justly  charged :  but 
as  a  proof  of  very  affecting  distress,  and  a  strong  instance  of  the 
instability  of  worldly  greatness.  He  had  his  faults ;  and  who  hath 
not  ?  but  let  it  be  remembered  that  there  were  virtues  to  set  in 
the  balance  against  them. 

I  have  been  anxious  to  ascertain  this  point,  from  a  desire  to 
make  it  known  beyond  all  doubt,  what  was  the  very  last  place 
where  this  most  unfortunate  prince  was  in  the  hands  of  those 
whom  he  might    safely  trust,  and  under  the  protection  of  an 
honest  and  confidential  friend;    and  that   this   place    was  the 
residence,  and  now  contains  the  remains  of  that  worthy  person  to 
whose  memory  these  pages  are  devoted. 

In  fitting  up  the  house  at  Gidding,  moral  sentences,  and  short 
passages  from  the  Scriptures  "  had  been  put  up  in  various  places ; 
and  in  the  great  parlour  was  an  inscription  which  gave  rise  to 

10  Awaken  the  compassion.']  The  distresses  of  this  unhappy  monarch,  inde- 
pendently of  the  last  bloody  scene  of  the  tragedy,  excited  much  commiseration 
in  the  English  hearts  even  of  many  who  never  sided  amongst  his  partizans  in 
the  war.  We  are  told  in  the  Life  of  Mr.  Thomas  Rosewell,  afterwards  a 
dissenting  minister,  and  who  was  found  guilty  of  treason  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  that  "travelling  a  little  from  home,  he  accidentally  saw  king 
Charles  the  First,  in  the  fields,  sitting  at  dinner  under  a  tree,  with  some  few 
persons  about  him.  This  made  such  deep  impressions  in  his  young  and 
tender  mind,  as  disposed  him  to  the  greater  compassion  and  loyalty  towards 
that  unhappy  monarch." —  Trial  of  Mr.  Thomas  Rosewell,  p.  5. 

II  Passages  from  the  Scriptures.']  This  was  according  to  a  practice  intro- 
duced, both  into  houses  and  churches,  about  the  time  of  the  Reformation. 

"  Christophor.    I  am  loth  to  go  so  soone  out  of  this  your  hall,  which 


much  speculation  and  censure.    It  was  nevertheless  first  approved 
of  by  several  judicious  divines,  and  particularly  by  Mr.  Herbert, 

feedeth  mine  eies  with  so  many  godly  and  goodly  spectacles.  Philemon. 
Why  is  here  any  thing  that  you  thinke  worthy  to  be  looked  upon  ?  Chris- 
toph.  Every  thing  is  here  so  pleasaunte  and  comfortable  to  the  eye  of  a 
Christian  man,  that  he  being  in  this  haull  may  justlye  seeme  to  be  in  a 
delectable  paradise,  I  had  almost  sayd  in  another  heaven.  For  here  is 
nothing  dumme  :  all  things  speake.  Theophile.  I  pray  you  what  is  there 
written  upon  your  parclose  dore  ?  Philem.  The  saying  of  Christ,  I  am  the 
dore  ;  by  me  if  any  man  entreth  in,  he  shall  be  safe,  and  shall  goe  in  and  out, 
and  shall  find  pasture.  This  is  done  to  put  me  and  my  householde  in 
remembrance  that  Christ  is  the  dore  by  whome  we  must  enter  into  the 
favour  of  God.  Eusebius.  This  is  Christenly  done.  What  is  this,  that  is 
written  upon  your  chimney  ?  Phil.  The  saying  of  the  prophete  Esay,  The 
fire  of  them  shall  not  be  quenched.  Christ.  This  is  a  terrible  and  hard 
saying.  Phil.  I  have  paynted  this  sentence  in  that  place,  that  as  the  other 
fixed  upon  the  dore  maketh  me  to  rejoyse  and  to  put  my  whole  afiyaunce  in 
Christ,  so  this  in  like  manner  should  absterre  and  feare  me  and  mine  from 
doying  evil  whan  by  lookyng  on  this  text  we  consider  with  ourselves  the 
unquenchable  flames  of  hell  fier. — Euseb.  What  have  ye  there  written 
in  your  window  ?  Philem.  Christes  saying  in  the  Gospel  of  S.  John,  I  am 
the  light  of  the  world.  He  that  followeth  me  walketh  not  in  darkness,  but 
shall  have  the  light  of  life.  Theoph.  Your  table  also,  me  thinke,  speaketh. 
Philem.  Herein  is  graven  the  saying  of  Christ,  Blessed  is  he  that  eateth 
bread  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  This  is  to  admonish  us,  that  we  should 
not  have  all  our  pleasure  in  eating,  drinking,  and  banketing  after  the  maner 
of  Epicures,  but  rather  desier  so  to  live  in  this  world,  that  after  this  life  we 
may  be  fed  in  the  joyful  kingdom  of  God  by  enjoying  the  most  glorious 
sight  of  the  divine  majestie.  Euseb.  What  have  ye  paynted  over  youre 
table  ?  Philem.  The  sayinge  of  the  prophete  Esay,  yea  rather  the  com- 
maundement  of  God  by  his  prophet,  Breake  thy  bread  to  the  hungry,  and 
leade  in  the  needy  and  way-faring  into  thy  house.  Euseb.  I  pray  you  what  is 
that  your  chaires  and  stoles  have  carved  on  them  ?  Philem.  A  saying  of 
Christ  in  the  Revelation  of  John  ;  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit 
with  me  in  my  throne.  It  is  not  unknowen  to  you,  I  am  sure,  how  com- 
fortable a  thing  it  is  for  a  wery  body  to  sit,  and  to  have  a  restyng  place. 
Certes  it  is  a  thousande  times  more  comfortable  to  have  a  place  where  body 
and  soule  after  so  many  great  and  daungerous  conflicts  in  this  miserable 
worlde,  may  quietly  rest.  Therefore  have  I  wrytten  this  texte  on  my  chayres 
and  stoles,  to  put  me  and  myne  in  remembrance,  that  if  we  will  find  rest 
after  this  life,  we  must  seriously  not  dally,  but  fighte  with  Satan  our  enemy." 
The  cup,  the  dishes,  the  laver,  the  virginals,  the  door  posts,  all  had  their 
respective  superscriptions  in  the  house  of  Philemon,  which  are  recounted  in 
the  progress  of  the  Dialogue.  The  last  instance  mentioned,  is  the  following : 
"  Euseb.  I  pray  you  what  two  great  tables  have  you  hanging  there  openly  ? 
Phil.  This  is  the  table  of  the  Ten  Commaundements,  which  teacheth  us  what 
we  ought  to  do,  and  what  to  eschewe.  The  other  is  a  table  also  which  con- 
taineth  in  it  the  offices  of  all  degrees  and  estates.  It  teacheth  us  what  we 



who  advised  it  to  be  engraved  in  brass,  and  so  hung  up  that  it 
might  be  seen  of  all.  But  calumny  was  now  gone  forth,  and 
nothing  could  be  done  at  Gidding  that  was  not  subjected  to  the 
severest  misrepresentation.  The  inscription  was  as  follows : 


HE  who  (by  reproof  of  our  errors, 
and  remonstrance  of  that  which  is 
more  perfect)  seeks  to  make  us 
better,  is  welcome  as  an  Angel  of 

He  who  any  ways  goes  about  to 
disturb  us  in  that  which  is  and 
ought  to  be  amongst  Christians 
(tho*  it  be  not  usual  in  the  world) 
is  a  burden  whilst  he  stays  and 
shall  bear  his  judgment  whoso- 
ever he  be. 

I  HE  who  (by  a  cheerful  partici- 
pation of  that  which  is  good)  con- 
-n-iiu  s  firms  us  in  the  same,  is  welcome 
as  a  Christian  Friend. 



HE  who  faults  us  in  absence  for 
that  which  in  presence  he  made 
shew  to  approve  of,  doth  by  a 
double  guilt  of  flattery  and  slan- 
der violate  the  bands  both  of 
friendship  and  charity. 

MARY  FERRAR,  Widow, 
Mother  of  this  Family, 

aged  fourscore  years, 

(who  bids  adieu  to  all  fears  and  hopes  of  this  world,  and  only 
desires  to  serve  God) 
set  up  this  Table. 

The  extraordinary  course  of  life  pursued  at  Gidding,  the  strict- 

owe  to  our  most  noble  Prince,  to  our  parentes,  and  to  all  superioures.  In 
this  table  every  man  from  the  highest  degree  to  the  lowest  may  learne  his 
office  and  duety.  Therefore  are  these  two  tables  red  every  day  openly  in  my 
house  :  my  wife  and  children,  with  all  my  servaunts  beyng  called  thereunto, 
and  giving  attendance  diligently  to  the  reading  of  the  same.  If  any  of  my 
houshold  transgresse  any  parcel  of  God's  lawe,  he  is  brought  streight  way  to 
these  tables,  and  by  them  is  his  faulte  declared  unto  hym.  This  is  the  order 
of  my  house.  Other  correccion  than  this  use  I  none  :  yet  notwithstanding  I 
thanke  my  Lord  God,  all  doe  theyr  duety  so  well,  that  I  cannot  wish  it  to  be 
done  better."  Becon's  Christmasse  Banket,  Works,  vol.  i.  fol.  17,  A.D.  1564. 
See  also  fol.  34.  In  the  reign  of  queen  Mary  all  the  texts  of  Scripture  which 
had  been  written  on  the  walls  of  churches  were  commanded  by  authority  to 
be  blotted  out  and  defaced.  See  Becon's  Works,  vol.  iii.  fol.  176.  b.  and 
's  Eccles.  Memorials,  vol.  iii.  p.  57. 

rrar's  friend,  George  Herbert,  speaking  of  the  country  par- 
sonage :  "  Even  the  walls  are  not  idle,  but  something  is  written  or  painted 
there,  which  may  excite  the  reader  to  a  thought  of  piety ;  especially  the 
101st  Psalm,  which  is  expressed  in  a  fair  table,  as  being  the  rule  of  a  family." 
A  Priest  to  the  Temple,  chap.  x. 


ness  of  their  rules,  their  prayers,  literally  without  ceasing,  their 
abstinence,  mortifications,  nightly  watchings,  and  various  other 
peculiarities,  gave  birth  to  censure  in  some,  and  inflamed  the 
malevolence  of  others,  but  excited  the  wonder  and  curiosity  of 
all.  So  that  they  were  frequently  visited l  with  different  views  by 
persons  of  all  denominations,  and  of  opposite  opinions.  They 
received  all  who  came  with  courteous  civility ;  and  from  those 
who  were  inquisitive  they  concealed  nothing :  for  in  truth  there 
was  not  any  thing  either  in  their  opinions  or  their  practice  that 
was  in  the  least  degree  necessary  to  be  concealed.  Whether  their 
conduct  was  a  subject  of  admiration  or  of  imitation  is  a  distinct 
enquiry,  which  at  present  there  is  not  any  occasion  to  enter  upon. 
They  were  at  the  time,  notwithstanding  all  the  real  good  they  did, 
severally  slandered  and  vilified :  by  some  they  were  abused  as 
papists ;  by  others  as  puritans.  Mr.  Ferrar  himself,  though  pos- 

1  Frequently  visited.]  "The  nearest  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood  was  a 
Roman  Catholic :  yet  he  and  his  lady  often  visited  Gidding,  without  any 
pressing  expectations  to  be  paid  those  respects  in  the  same  kind,  by  a  family 
so  constantly  better  employed  than  in  returning  visits  of  compliment.  Be- 
sides, the  master  of  their  morals  used  to  warn  them  all,  but  especially  the 
younger  people  under  his  care,  '  that  he  is  wise  and  good,  and  like  to  con- 
tinue so,  that  keeps  himself  out  of  temptation.' 

"  One  day  his  neighbour  brought  with  him  to  Gidding,  three  learned  priests 
of  his  own  religious  communion;  one  of  them  a  celebrated  writer  for  the 
church  of  Rome ;  all  of  them  full  of  curiosity  to  sound  a  man  of  such  depth 
of  learning,  of  such  an  excellent  understanding,  and  of  so  great  piety,  as 
rumour  had  attached  to  the  character  of  Mr.  Ferrar.  He  did  not  decline 
engaging  with  them ;  in  which  he  was  upon  a  vast  advantage  above  ordinary 
managers  of  similar  controversies,  having  in  his  travels,  with  his  own  eyes, 
seen  their  practices,  and  made  it  so  much  his  business  to  compare  them  with 
their  pretences.  The  conference  was  spun  out  to  a  great  length  j  it  was  sup- 
ported on  all  hands  with  equal  temper,  and  with  such  acuteness  too,  as  not  to 
leave  the  question  where  they  found  it.  They  traversed  every  essential  point 
of  difference  between  protestant  and  papist,  and  parted  upon  such  terms  as 
were  proper  for  men  who  desired  at  least  to  maintain  the  communion  of 
charity  with  each  other. 

"  One  of  them  afterwards  related  that  he  had  *  seen  Little  Gidding,  the 
place  so  much  in  every  body's  mouth ;'  that  '  they  found  the  master  of  the 
house  another  kind  of  man  than  they  expected  :  a  deep  and  solid  man,  of  a 
wonderful  memory,  sharp-witted,  and  of  a  flaming  eloquence :  one  who, 
besides  his  various  reading,  spoke  out  of  experience,  with  insight  into  things, 
as  well  as  books.9  In  conclusion,  he  was  heard  to  say,  that  this  man,  if  he 
lived  to  make  himself  known  to  the  world,  would  give  their  church  her  hands 
full  to  answer  him,  and  trouble  them  in  another  manner  than  Luther  had 
done."— Brief  Memoirs  of  Nicholas  Ferrar  (from  bishop  Turner,  &c.)  p.  133, 4. 


sessed  of  uncommon  patience,  and  resignation,  yet  in  anguish  of 
spirit  complained  to  his  friends,  that  the  perpetual  obloquy  he 
endured  was  a  sort  of  unceasing  martyrdom 2. 

Hence  violent  invectives,  and  inflammatory  pamphlets  were 
published  against  them.  Amongst  others,  not  long  after  Mr. 
Ferraris  death,  a  treatise 3  was  addressed  to  the  parliament,  en- 

2  Unceasing  martyrdom.']  "  He  was  so  exercised  with  contradictions,  as  no 
man  that  lived  so  private  as  he  desired  to  do,  could  possibly  be  more.     I 
have  heard  him  say,  valuing,  not  resenting,  his  own  sufferings,  in  this  kind, 
that  to  fry  a  faggot  was  not  more  martyrdom,  than  continual  obliquy.     He  was 
torn  asunder  as  with  mad  horses,  or  crushed  betwixt  the  upper  and  under 
milstone  of  contrary  reports;   that  he  was  a  Papist,  and  that  he  was  a 
Puritan.     What  is,  if  this  be  not,  to  be  sawn  asunder  as  Esay,  stoned  as 
Jeremy,  made  a  drum,  or  tympanized,  as  other  saints  of  God  were !     And 
after  his  death,  when  by  injunction,  which  he  laid  upon  his  friends  when  he 
lay  on  his  death  bed,  a  great  company  of  comedies,  tragedies,  love  hymns, 
heroical  poems,  &c.  were  burnt  upon  his  grave,  as  utter  enemies  to  Chris- 
tian principles  and  practices,  (that  was  his  brand)  some  poor  people  said, 
He  was  a  conjuror."     Oley's  Life  of  Mr.  George  Herbert,  prefixed  to  his 
Country  Parson. 

3  A  treatise.]    The  history  of  this  treatise,  which  had  no  little  effect  at 
the  time  when  it  first  appeared,  and  which  has  not  been  without  some  in- 
fluence in  our  own  times,  is  curious.     Sir  Thomas  Hetley  or  Hedley,  knight, 
a  lawyer  of  some  note,  who,  with  Heneage  Finch,  and  others,  on  the  26th 
June,  1623,  had  been  made  serjeant-at-law,  was  desirous  of  learning  some 
particulars  as  to  the  proceedings  of  the  Ferrars  family  at  Gidding,  which  was 
not  very  distant  from  Brampton,  where  he  possessed  some  property.     He 
therefore  requested  his  friend  and  relation,  Edward  Lenton,  (of  Gray's  Inn 
and  of  Notley,  or  Noctele  Abbey,  in  Buckinghamshire,  near  Thame,)  to  visit 
Gidding  for  that  purpose.     Some  time  in  the  year  1635,  Edward  Lenton  went 
there,  and  wrote  a  letter  to  sir  T.  Hetley,  intituled,  "  Letter  to  Sir  Thomas 
Hetley,  knt.,  serjeant-at-lawe,  vpon  his  request,  to  certifie  as  I  found  concerninge 
the  reputed  nunnerie  at  Giddinge,  in  Huntingdonshire,"  giving  a  very  favourable 
account  of  the  Ferrars  family,  and  of  their  proceedings.     This  was  circulated 
in  manuscript,  the  temper  of  the  times  not  being  very  favourable  to  its  ap- 
pearance in  print.     The  author's  name  was  not  given,  and  it  appears  to  have 
been  purposely  concealed.     The  British  Museum  possesses  several  contem- 
porary copies,  one  of  which  is  said  to  be  "  by  a  friend  :"  another  has  the 
initials  "  H.  S."  The  Letter  was  first  printed  by  Thomas  Hearne,  in  his  edition 
of  Peter  Langtoft's  Chronicle,  Oxford,  1725,  vol.  i.  p.  cix.,  "from  a  MS.  lent  to 
the  publisher  on  July  6th,  1724,  by  Thomas  Ward,  of  Longbridge,  near 

ick,  esq.,"  which  MS.  was  signed  "H.  S.j"  and  it  was  again  printed 
by  Hearne,  with  the  author's  real  name,  in  his  edition  of  Th.  Caii  Vindicite 
Academic  Oxonienxis,  Oxford,  1730,  vol.  ii.  p.  702.  It  will  also  be  found  at 
the  end  of  the  present  life,  p.  251. 

But  although  Lenton  did  not  venture  to  print  his  letter  to  Hetley,  others 


titled,  The  Arminian  Nunnery,  or  a  brief  description  and  relation 
of  the  late  erected  monastical  place,  called  the  Arminian  Nunnery 
at  Little  Gidding  in  Huntingdonshire :  humbly  addressed  to  the 
wise  consideration  of  the  present  parliament.  The  foundation  is  by 
a  company  of  Ferrars  at  Gidding.  Printed  for  Tho.  Underhill, 

In  which  production  there  is  nothing  but  falshood,  or  what  is 
much  worse,  truth  wilfully  so  mangled  and  misrepresented  as  to 
answer  the  vilest  ends  of  falshood.  And  this  sort  of  malignity 
was  carried  to  such  a  length,  that  not  long  before  the  real  tragedy 
of  king  Charles  was  perpetrated,  certain  soldiers  of  the  parliament 
party  resolved  to  plunder  the  house  at  Gidding.  The  family  being 
informed  of  their  hasty  approach,  thought  it  prudent  to  fly,  and, 
as  to  their  persons,  endeavour  to  escape  the  intended  violence. 

These  military  zealots,  in  the  rage  of  what  they  called  reforma- 
tion, ransacked  both  the  church  and  the  house.  In  doing  which 
they  expressed  a  particular  spite  against  the  organ.  This  they 
broke  in  pieces,  of  which  they  made  a  large  fire,  and  thereat 
roasted  several  of  Mr.  Ferrar's  sheep,  which  they  had  killed  in 
his  grounds.  This  done  they  seized  all  the  plate,  furniture,  and 
provision  which  they  could  conveniently  carry  away.  And  in  this 
general  devastation  perished  those  works  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar, 
which  merited  a  better  fate. 

Certainly  no  family  suffered  more  from  less  cause  of  offence : 
for  though  they  were  pious  and  firm  members  of  the  church  of 

were  not  so  scrupulous.  A  transcript  fell  into  the  hands  of  some  zealous,  but 
unprincipled  puritan,  who  interpolated  his  own  observations,  and  otherwise 
falsified  it,  and  printed  it  under  the  title  (given  above)  of  "  The  Arminian  Nun- 
nery, fyc."  1641,  with  a  rude  wood-cut,  on  the  title  page,  of  a  nun  and  a 
church.  This  pamphlet  is  now  very  rare,  but  copies  are  in  the  British 
Museum  and  Bodleian  libraries,  and  the  former  possesses  a  transcript  made 
by  Humphrey  Wanley,  from  a  copy  belonging  to  Dr.  Charlcott,  master  of 
University  College.  It  has  been  reprinted  by  Hearne,  in  his  edition  of  "Peter 
Langtoffs  Chronicle,"  Oxford,  1725,  vol.  i.  p.  cxxv.  The  modern  edition  of 
Hearne's  work  also  contains  it.  Being  avowedly  a  falsification  of  the  truth, 
it  has  not  been  thought  proper  to  reprint  it  here.  This  false  and  abusive 
publication  naturally  excited  the  attention  of  John  Ferrar,  and  in  reply  to  his 
remonstrances,  Edward  Lenton  sent  him  a  copy  of  the  true  Letter,  with  an 
explanation,  dated  Notley,  near  Thame,  27th  October  (1642).  The  same 
causes  which  prevented  the  publication  of  the  letter  to  Hetley,  operated  to 
keep  this  letter  of  explanation  in  MS.  It  was  first  printed  by  Hearne  in  his 
edition  of  Th.  Caii  Vindicics  Acad.  Oxon.,  1730.,  vol.  ii.  p.  693.  It  will  be 
found  in  the  present  vol.,  at  p.  251,  post. 

VOL.  IV.  p 


England,  they  behaved  themselves  quietly,  and  with  Christian 
benevolence  towards  all  men  of  all  denominations  :  and  although 
they  practised  austerities  which  were  not  exceeded  by  the  severest 
orders  of  the  monastic  institutions,  yet  they  neither  required 
them  from  others,  nor  in  themselves  attributed  any  saving  merit 
to  them ;  austerities  which  mistaken  piety  thought  a  duty,  but 
which,  it  must  be  confessed,  have  not  any  proper  foundation  in 
the  Christian  institution. 

A  short  time  before  the  commission  of  these  violences,  bishop 
Williams  paid  his  last  friendly  visit  at  Gidding,  and  seeing  the 
inscription  in  the  parlour,  said  to  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  "  I  would 
advise  you  to  take  this  table  down.  You  see  the  times  grow  high 
and  turbulent,  and  no  one  knows  where  the  rage  and  madness  of 
the  people  may  end.  I  am  just  come  from  Boston,  where  I  was 
used  very  coarsely.  I  do  not  speak  as  by  authority,  I  only  advise 
you  as  a  friend,  for  fear  of  offence  or  worse  consequences.'1  Then 
after  sincerely  condoling  with  them  on  their  irreparable  misfor- 
tune in  the  death  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  he  bade  them  his  final 
farewell.  But  ever  after  continued  their  firm  friend,  and  con- 
stantly vindicated  the  family  from  the  many  slanders  of  their  false 
accusers. — But  to  return  from  this  digression. 

Mrs.  Ferrar,  towards  the  close  of  her  life,  seems  to  have  been 
convinced  that  the  mortifications  practised  by  the  family,  were 
more  than  were  necessary,  and  she  became  apprehensive  for  the 
health,  and  even  for  the  life  of  her  beloved  son.  She  therefore 
earnestly  entreated  him,  and  with  many  tears  besought  him,  that 
he  would  relax  a  little  in  the  severe  discipline  which  he  exercised 
upon  himself.  And  he,  being  an  example  of  filial  obedience,  com- 
plied in  some  degree  with  her  request,  during  the  remainder  of 
her  life :  but  this  was  not  of  long  continuance. 

In  the  year  1635,  ten  years  after  coming  to  Gidding,  this  ex- 
cellent woman  died,  aged  eighty-three  years.  Her  character,  as 
follows,  is  given  by  her  son  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  who  collected,  and 
left  the  materials  for  these  memoirs.  "  Though  of  so  great  age, 
at  her  dying  day,  she  had  no  infirmity,  and  scarce  any  sign  of  old 
age  upon  her.  Her  hearing,  sight,  and  all  her  senses  were  very 
good.  She  had  never  lost  a  tooth ;  she  walked  very  upright,  and 
with  great  agility.  Nor  was  she  troubled  with  any  pains  or 
uneasiness  of  body.  While  she  lived  at  Gidding  she  rose,  sum- 
mer and  winter,  at  five  o'clock,  and  sometimes  sooner.  In  her 
person  she  was  of  a  comely  presence,  and  had  a  countenance  so 


full  of  gravity  that  it  drew  respect  from  all  who  beheld  her.  In 
her  words  she  was  courteous,  in  her  actions  obliging.  In  her 
diet  always  very  temperate ;  saying,  she  did  not  live  to  eat  and 
drink,  but  ate  and  drank  to  live.  She  was  a  pattern  of  piety, 
benevolence  and  charity.  And  thus  she  lived  and  died,  esteemed, 
revered,  and  beloved,  of  all  who  knew  her."  Such  are  the  effects 
of  a  life  of  temperance  and  virtue. 

While  his  mother  was  yet  living  Mr.  Ferrar  did  so  far  comply 
with  her  request,  that  he  went  to  bed,  or  lay  down  upon  it,  from 
nine  in  the  evening  till  one  in  the  morning,  which  was  his  constant 
hour  of  rising  to  his  devotions.  But  after  her  death  he  never  did 
either :  but  wrapping  himself  in  a  loose  frieze  gown,  slept  on  a 
bear's  skin  upon  the  boards.  He  also  watched  either  in  the 
oratory,  or  in  the  church  three  nights  in  the  week. 

These  nightly  watchings  having  been  frequently  mentioned,  it 
may  not  be  improper  here  to  give  a  short  account  of  the  rules 
under  which  they  were  performed.  It  was  agreed  that  there 
should  be  a  constant  double  nightwatch,  of  men  at  one  end  of  the 
house,  and  of  women  at  the  other.  That  each  watch  should  con- 
sist of  two  or  more  persons.  That  the  watchings  should  begin  at 
nine  o'clock  at  night,  and  end  at  one  in  the  morning.  That  each 
watch  should  in  those  four  hours,  carefully  and  distinctly  say  over 
the  whole  book  of  psalms,  in  the  way  of  Antiphony,  one  repeat- 
ing one  verse,  and  the  rest  the  other.  That  they  should  then 
pray  for  the  life  of  the  king  and  his  sons.  The  time  of  their 
watch  being  ended,  they  went  to  Mr.  Ferraris  door,  bade  him 
good  morrow,  and  left  a  lighted  candle  for  him.  At  one  he  con- 
stantly rose,  and  betook  himself  to  religious  meditation,  founding 
this  practice  on  an  acceptation  too  literal  of  the  passage,  At 
midnight  will  I  rise  and  give  thanks,  and  some  other  passages  of 
similar  import.  Several  religious  persons  both  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  from  distant  places,  attended  these  watchings :  and 
amongst  these  the  celebrated  Mr.  Richard  Crashaw,  fellow  of 
Peterhouse,  who  was  very  intimate  in  the  family,  and  frequently 
came  from  Cambridge  for  this  purpose,  and  at  his  return  often 
watched  in  Little  St.  Mary's  church  near  Peterhouse  *. 

4  Near  Peterhouse.~\  [A  most  respectable  author  hath  given  his  sanction,  if 
not  to  the  severity,  at  least  to  a  moderate  observation  of  this  mode  of 
psalmody,  in  his  Comment  on  the  134th  Psalm. 

"  Bless  ye  the  Lord  all  ye  servants  of  the  Lord,  who  by  night  stand  in  the 

p  2 


His  friends  perceiving  a  visible  decay  of  his  strength,  remon- 
strated against  these  austerities,  fearing  bad  consequences  to  his 
health ;  they  told  him  that  he  was  much  too  strict  in  his  way  of 
life ;  they  advised  him  to  go  abroad,  to  take  the  air  frequently, 
and  to  admit  of  some  innocent  amusement.  He  replied,  "that 
to  rise  and  go  to  bed  when  we  please,  to  take  the  air  and  get  a 
good  appetite,  to  eat  heartily,  to  drink  wine,  and  cheer  the  spirits, 
to  hunt,  and  hawk,  to  ride  abroad,  and  make  visits,  to  play  at 
cards  and  dice,  these  are  what  the  world  terms  gallant  and  plea- 
sant things,  and  recreations  fit  for  a  gentleman :  but  such  a  life 
would  be  so  great  a  slavery  to  me,  and  withal  I  think  it  of  so 
dangerous  a  tendency,  that  if  I  was  told  I  must  either  live  in  that 
manner,  or  presently  suffer  death,  the  latter  would  most  certainly 
be  my  choice." 

There  cannot  be  any  doubt  but  that  these  austerities  gradually 
reduced  a  constitution  originally  not  very  strong,  and  shortened 
the  life  of  a  most  virtuous,  and  most  valuable  man. 

house  of  the  Lord.  Bless  him  in  the  chearful  and  busy  hours  of  the  day : 
bless  him  in  the  solemn  and  peaceful  watches  of  the  night. 

"  The  pious  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar  exhibited  in  the  last  century  an  instance 
of  a  protestant  family,  in  which  a  constant  course  of  psalmody  was  appointed, 
and  so  strictly  kept  up,  that  through  the  whole  four  and  twenty  hours  of  day 
and  night,  there  was  no  portion  of  time  when  some  of  the  members  were 
not  employed  in  performing  that  most  pleasant  part  of  duty  and  devotion." 
Dr.  Home. 

The  high  degree  of  veneration  in  which  Mr.  Ferrar  held  the  book  of 
Psalms  appears  from  the  peculiar  attention  he  bestowed  upon  it ;  as  hath 
been  particularly  related  in  the  foregoing  part  of  these  memoirs.  Nor  is  he 
singular  in  this  respect.  Dr.  Home  says,  the  "  Psalms  are  an  epitome  of 
the  Bible,  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  devotion.  That  for  this  purpose  they 
are  adorned  with  figures,  and  set  off  with  all  the  graces  of  poetry,  and  poetry 
itself  designed  yet  farther  to  be  recommended  by  the  charms  of  music,  thus 
consecrated  to  the  service  of  God  ;  that  so,  delight  may  prepare  the  way  for 
improvement,  and  pleasure  become  the  handmaid  of  wisdom,  while  every 
turbulent  passion  is  calmed  by  sacred  melody,  and  the  evil  spirit  still  dispos- 
sessed by  the  harp  of  the  son  of  Jesse."  "  What  is  there  necessary  for  man  to 
know,"  says  the  pious  and  judicious  Hooker,  "  which  the  Psalms  are  not  able 
to  teach  ?  They  are  to  beginners,  an  easy  and  familiar  introduction,  a  mighty 
augmentation  of  all  virtue  and  knowledge  in  such  as  are  entered  before,  and 
a  strong  confirmation  to  the  most  perfect  among  others."  Hooker.  See 
Dr.  Home's  Pref.  to  his  Commentary. 

On  such  respectable  authority,  I  may  safely  recommend  a  proper  degree  of 
attention  to  the  example  of  Mr.  Ferrar,  so  far  as  time,  and  opportunity,  and 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  situation  will  admit.] 


About  three  months  before  his  death,  perceiving  in  himself 
some  inward  faintness,  and  apprehending  that  his  last  hour  was 
now  drawing  very  near,  he  broke  off  abruptly  from  writing  any 
farther  on  a  subject  which  was  now  under  his  consideration.  This 
breaking  off  is  yet  to  be  seen  in  that  unfinished  treatise,  with  his  rea- 
son for  discontinuing  it.  He  then  began  to  write  down  Contem- 
plations on  Death  in  the  following  words : 

"  The  remembrance  of  death  is  very  powerful  to  restrain  us 
from  sinning.  For  he  who  shall  well  consider  that  the  day  will 
come  (and  he  knoweth  not  how  soon)  when  he  shall  be  laid  on  a 
sick  bed,  weak  and  faint,  without  ease  and  almost  without 
strength,  encompassed  with  melancholy  thoughts,  and  over- 
whelmed with  anguish ;  when  on  one  side,  his  distemper  increasing 
upon  him,  the  physician  tells  him  that  he  is  past  all  hope  of  life, 
and  on  the  other,  his  friends  urge  him  to  dispose  of  his  worldly 
goods,  and  share  his  wealth  among  them :  that  wealth  which  he 
procured  with  trouble,  and  preserved  with  anxiety :  that  wealth 
which  he  now  parts  from  with  sorrow :  when  again  the  priest  calls 
on  him  to  take  the  preparatory  measures  for  his  departure :  when 
he  himself  now  begins  to  be  assured  that  here  he  hath  no  abiding 
city :  that  this  is  no  longer  a  world  for  him :  that  no  more  suns 
will  rise  and  set  upon  him :  that  for  him  there  will  be  no  more 
seeing,  no  more  hearing,  no  more  speaking,  no  more  touching,  no 
more  tasting,  no  more  fancying,  no  more  understanding,  no  more 
remembering,  no  more  desiring,  no  more  loving,  no  more  delights 
of  any  sort  to  be  enjoyed  by  him ;  but  that  death  will  at  one 
stroke  deprive  him  of  all  these  things :  that  he  will  speedily  be 
carried  out  of  the  house  which  he  had  called  his  own,  and  is  now 
become  another's :  that  he  will  be  put  into  a  cold,  narrow  grave : 
that  earth  will  be  consigned  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  and  dust  to 
dust :  let  any  man  duly  and  daily  ponder  these  things,  and  how 
can  it  be  that  he  should  dare  " 

Here  the  strength  of  this  good  man  failed  him,  and  his  essay 
is  left  thus  unfinished. 

On  the  second  of  November  he  found  that  his  weakness 
increased,  yet  he  went  to  church,  and  on  that  day  officiated  for 
the  last  time.  After  this,  his  faintness  continued  gradually  to 
increase,  but  he  suffered  not  the  least  degree  of  bodily  pain. 
He  conversed  with  his  family,  and  earnestly  encouraged  them  to 
persevere  in  the  way  he  had  pointed  out  to  them.  And  addressing 
himself  particularly  to  his  brother,  said,  "  My  dear  brother,  I 


must  now  shortly  appear  before  God,  and  give  an  account  of  what 
I  have  taught  this  family.  And  here  with  a  safe  conscience  I 
can  say,  that  I  have  delivered  nothing  to  you  but  what  I  thought 
agreeable  to  his  word :  therefore  abide  steadily  by  what  I  have 
taught.  Worship  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  I  will  use  no 
more  words.  One  thing  however  I  must  add,  that  you  may  be 
both  forewarned,  and  prepared.  Sad  times5  are  coming  on, 
very  sad  times  indeed ;  you  will  live  to  see  them."  Then  grasping 
his  brother's  hand,  he  said,  U0h !  my  brother !  I  pity  you,  who 
must  see  these  dreadful  alterations.  And  when  you  shall  see 
the  true  worship  of  God  brought  to  nought,  and  suppressed, 
then  look,  and  fear  that  desolation  is  nigh  at  hand.  And  in 
this  great  trial  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy  support  and  deliver 

The  third  day  before  his  death  he  summoned  all  his  family 
round  him,  and  then  desired  his  brother  to  go  and  mark  out  a 
place*  for  his  grave  according  to  the  particular  directions  he 

6  Sad  times.']  "  When  some  farmers  near  the  place  where  master  Ferrar 
lived,  somewhat  before  these  times,  desired  longer  leases  to  be  made  them, 
he  intimated,  that  seven  years  would  be  long  enough.  Troublous  times  were 
coming :  they  might  thank  God  if  they  enjoyed  them  so  long,  in  peace." 
Oley's  Life  of  Mr.  George  Herbert.  "When  these  sad  times  were  come, 
religion  and  loyalty  were  such  eye  sores,  that  all  the  Ferrars  fled  away,  and 
dispersed,  and  took  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods.  All  that  they  had 
restored  to  the  church,  all  that  they  had  bestowed  upon  sacred  comeliness, 
all  that  they  had  gathered  for  their  own  livelihood  and  for  alms,  was  seized 
upon  as  a  lawful  prey,  taken  from  superstitious  persons."  Racket's  Life  of 
Abp.  Williams,  part  2.  p.  53. 

6  Mark  out  a  place.']  "Three  days  before  his  death,  at  about  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  he  summoned  all  his  family  around  him,  and  addressed  his 
brother  John  to  this  effect :  *  Brother,  I  would  have  you  go  to  the  church, 
and  at  the  west  end,  at  the  door  where  we  enter  the  church,  I  would  have 
you  measure  from  the  steps  seven  feet  to  the  westward,  and  at  the  end  of 
those  seven  feet,  there  let  my  grave  be  made.'  His  brother  stood  almost 
drowned  in  tears,  as  in  truth  were  all  the  standers-by  :  indeed  never  had  a 
family  more  cause  to  bewail  a  loss.  Mr.  Ferrar  continued :  '  Brother,  that 
first  place  of  the  length  of  seven  feet,  I  leave  for  your  burying-place ;  you 
are  my  elder  brother :  God,  I  hope,  will  let  you  there  take-up  your  resting- 
place,  till  we  all  rise  again  in  joy/  When  his  brother  returned,  saying  it  was 
done  as  he  desired ;  '  then  go,'  he  added,  '  and  remove  from  my  study  those 
three  large  hampers  full  of  books,  that  stand  there  locked  up  these  many 
years.  They  are  comedies,  tragedies,  heroic  poems,  and  romances  :  let  them 
be  carried  to  the  place  marked  out  for  my  grave,  and  there,  upon  it,  see  you 
burn  them  all  immediately.'  And  this  he  uttered  with  some  vehemence  and 


then  gave.  When  his  brother  returned,  saying  it  was  done  as 
he  desired,  he  requested  them  all  in  presence  of  each  other  to 
take  out  of  his  study  three  large  hampers  full  of  books,  which  had 
been  there  locked  up  many  years.  "  They  are  comedies,  tragedies, 
heroic  poems,  and  romances ;  let  them  be  immediately  burnt 
upon  the  place  marked  out  for  my  grave :  and  when  you  shall 
have  so  done,  come  back  and  inform  me."  When  information 
was  brought  him  that  they  were  all  consumed,  he  desired  that 
this  act  might  be  considered  as  the  testimony  of  his  disapproba- 
tion of  all  such  productions,  as  tending  to  corrupt  the  mind  of 
man,  and  improper  for  the  perusal  of  every  good  and  sincere 

On  the  first  of  December,  1637,  he  found  himself  declining 
very  fast,  and  desired  to  receive  the  sacrament :  after  which,  and 
taking  a  most  affectionate  farewell  of  all  his  family,  without  a 
struggle,  or  a  groan,  he  expired  in  a  rapturous  ecstacy7  of 

Thus  lived,  and  thus  died  Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  best  of  sons,  of 
brothers,  and  of  friends,  on  Monday,  Dec.  2,  1637,  precisely  as 
the  clock  struck  one  :  the  hour  at  which  for  many  years  he  con- 
stantly rose  to  pay  his  addresses  to  heaven. 

indignation,  adding,  *  Go,  brother ;  let  it  be  done,  let  it  be  done ;  and  then 
come  again  all  of  you  to  me/ 

"  These  books  had  been  carefully  locked  up  ever  since  the  family  had  taken 
up  their  abode  at  Gidding,  in  order  that  no  one  should  make  use  of  them,  or 
see  them.  There  were  many  hundreds  in  several  languages,  which  Mr. 
Ferrar  had  procured  at  different  places  in  his  travels,  some  of  them  with 
much  search  and  cost. 

"  His  orders  were  obeyed.  The  vain  things  which  once  had  charmed  him, 
were  sacrificed  over  the  spot  which  was  to  receive  his  mortal  remains ;  and 
the  smoke  and  flame  of  this  holocaust,  as  they  flared  from  the  eminence  on 
which  the  house  and  church  stood,  excited  the  attention  and  alarm  of  the 
neighbourhood,  and  drew  together  very  many  persons,  who  imagined  a 
destructive  fire  was  happening  at  Gidding. 

"  When  the  people  saw  what  was  doing,  they  went  away,  and  reported 
that  Mr.  Ferrar  was  dying,  and  his  books  burning.  Within  a  few  days  the 
report  of  this  transaction  had  assumed  another  feature,  and  it  was  currently 
asserted  in  the  neighbouring  market  towns,  that  he  would  not  die  in  peace 
until  he  had  burned  all  his  books  of  magic  and  conjuration. 

.  .  .  .  "  When  his  brother  returned,  and  assured  him  that  they  were  all 
burnt,  he  sat  up  in  his  bed,  and  poured  out  his  soul  in  hearty  thanksgivings 
to  Almighty  God."— Brief  Memoirs,  fyc.  (from  Bp.  Turner),  p.  182—6. 

7  A  rapturous  ecstacy. ,]  See  Brief  Memoirs  of  Nicholas  Ferrar  (from  Bp. 
Turner)  by  the  Rev.  T.  M.  Macdonogh,  p.  188—91. 


That  he  was  eminently  pious  towards  God,  benevolent  towards 
man,  and  perfectly  sincere  in  all  his  dealings:  that  he  was 
industrious  beyond  his  strength,  and  indefatigable  in  what  he 
thought  his  duty :  that  he  was  blessed  by  providence  with  uncom- 
mon abilities  ;  and  by  unremitted  exertion  of  his  various  talents 
attained  many  valuable  accomplishments,  is  very  manifest  from 
the  preceding  memoirs,  and  is  the  least  that  can  be  said  in  his 
praise ;  and  though  greatly  to  his  honour,  is  yet  no  more  than 
that  degree  of  excellence  which  may  have  been  attained  by  many. 
But  the  spiritual  exaltation  of  mind  by  which  he  rose  above  all 
earthly  considerations  of  advantage,  and  devoted  himself  entirely 
to  God,  whom  in  the  strictest  sense  he  loved  with  all  his  heart, 
with  all  his  soul,  and  with  all  his  strength,  being  united  to  the 
active  virtues  of  a  citizen  of  the  world,  gives  him  a  peculiar  pre- 
eminence even  among  those  who  excel  in  virtue.  For  though  he 
practised  self-denial  to  the  utmost,  and  exercised  religious  seve- 
rities upon  himself  scarce  inferior  to  those  of  the  recluses  who 
retired  to  deserts,  and  shut  themselves  up  in  dens  and  caves  of 
the  earth,  yet  he  did  not,  like  them,  by  a  solitary  and  morose 
retirement,  deprive  himself  of  the  power  continually  to  do  good, 
but  led  a  life  of  active  virtue  and  benevolence.  His  youth  was 
spent  in  an  incessant  application  to  learned  studies,  and  the  time 
of  his  travel  was  given  to  the  acquisition  of  universal  wisdom. 
On  his  return  home,  in  conducting  the  affairs  of  an  important 
establishment,  he  displayed  uncommon  abilities,  integrity  and 
spirit.  As  a  member  of  the  house  of  commons  he  gained  dis- 
tinguished honour,  and  was  appointed  the  principal  manager  to 
prosecute,  and  bring  to  justice  the  great  man  and  corrupt 
minister  of  that  time.  And  having  thus  discharged  the  duties  of 
a  virtuous  citizen,  he  devoted  the  rest  of  his  life  to  the  instruction 
of  youth,  to  works  of  Christian  charity,  and  to  the  worship  of 
God  in  a  religious  retirement,  while  he  was  yet  in  possession  of 
his  health  and  strength,  and  in  the  prime  of  manhood.  That 
like  the  great  author,  who  was  his  daily  and  nightly  study  and 
admiration,  the  royal  Psalmist,  he  might  not  sacrifice  to  God, 
that  which  cost  him  nothing.  In  one  word,  he  was  a  rare 
example  of  that  excellence  in  which  are  blended  all  the  brilliant 
cjualitifs  of  the  great  man,  with  all  the  amiable  virtues  of  the 


As  a  sequel  to  the  preceding  memoirs,  I  will  subjoin  a  short 
account  of  Mr.  Nich.  Ferrar,  jun.  as  being  proper,  if  not  neces- 
sary, to  clear  up  some  difficulties  concerning  the  works  of  these 
two  extraordinary  persons,  who  were  blessed  with  a  similarity  of 
genius,  and  possessed  uncommon  accomplishments  in  learning 
and  virtue. 

Nicholas  Ferrar,  jun.  was  the  son  of  John  Ferrar,  esq.  (elder 
brother  to  the  sen.  Nicholas)  and  Bathsheba,  daughter  of  Mr. 
Israel  Owen  of  London.  He  was  bom  in  the  year  1620.  By  a 
picture  of  him  in  the  editor's  possession,  taken  when  he  might 
be  something  more  than  a  year  old,  he  appears  to  have  been  a 
robust  and  healthy  child.  When  he  became  capable  of  instruc- 
tion his  uncle  took  him  under  his  own  immediate  care,  and 
finding  in  him  a  quickness  of  parts,  and  a  turn  of  disposition 
congenial  to  his  own,  he  instructed,  and  assisted  him  in  the 
same  course  of  studies  which  he  himself  had  pursued  in  the  early 
part  of  his  life. 

In  this  he  made  such  a  rapid  proficiency,  as  was  the  asto- 
nishment of  all  who  knew  him,  and,  could  it  not  be  proved  by 
sufficient  testimony,  might  occasion  a  great  difficulty  of  belief. 

It  cannot  be  expected  that  the  life  of  a  young  man,  who  scarce 
ever  went  from  the  sequestered  place  of  his  education,  and  died 
when  he  was  but  little  more  than  twenty  years  of  age,  should 
abound  with  incidents  ;  but  if  the  term  of  existence  were  to  be 
measured  by  virtue  and  knowledge,  few  would  be  found  who  have 
lived  so  long. 

This  extraordinary  youth  was  dearly  beloved  of  his  uncle,  who 
spared  no  diligence  or  expense  in  his  education,  providing  able 
tutors  both  in  the  sciences  and  in  languages,  and  bestowing  great 
part  of  his  own  time  in  his  instruction.  He  too  like  his  uncle, 
with  uncommon  quickness  of  parts,  and  extraordinary  strength  of 
memory,  possessed  an  equal  ardour  for  improvement,  and  an 
indefatigable  spirit  of  application. 

He  also  was  the  constant  attendant  of  his  uncle  in  his  religious 
exercises,  and  particularly  in  the  nightly  watches,  and  acts  of 
devotion.  And  it  is  to  be  feared  that  these  (may  I  say  ?)  too 
severe  exertions  might  in  some  degree  tend  to  shorten  the  term 
of  life. 

He  was  but  seventeen  at  the  death  of  his  uncle,  and  he 
survived  him  but  four  years.  He  died  May  19,  1640,  in  his 
twenty-first  year. 


The  first  work  in  which  young  N.  Ferrar  appears  to  have 
been  employed  by  his  uncle  was  the  translation  of  Mynsinger^s 
Devotions ;  a  volume  containing  a  very  large  collection  of  prayers 
for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  N.  Ferrar,  sen.  commended 
this  book  of  Occasional  Devotions  as  the  best  he  had  ever  seen 
upon  the  subject,  and  said  that  it  could  not  but  do  much  good  in 
the  world.  This  the  nephew  performed  when  he  was  about  four- 
teen years  of  age.  His  greater  works,  as  they  are  arranged  in 
the  original  MS.  stand  as  follows :  and  I  give  them  in  the  very 
words  of  the  MS.  without  correction  of  some  little  inaccuracies  in 
the  account,  which  it  is  hoped  will  meet  with  pardon  *. 


Upon  your  request,  and  bound  by  the  great  obligation  of  your 
worth,  I  have  thus  scribbled  out,  what  here  follows;  rather 
willing  to  shame  myself  in  this  kind,  than  not  to  fulfil  your 
desires.  Such  as  it  is,  you  will  please  to  accept,  from, 

Your  much  obliged  in  all  love  and  service, 

J.  F. 

1.  FIRST  WORK  ». 

Glory  be  to  God  on  High. 
The  actions,  doctrines,  and  other  passages  touching  our  blessed  Lord  and 

8  With  pardon.']  In  the  room  of  what  follows  in  Dr.  Peckard's  Life,  from 
the  conclusion  of  this  paragraph,  (from  p.  260  to  p.  278)  the  reader  is  here 
presented  with  a  much  more  complete,  and  extremely  interesting  account, 
transcribed,  by  the  permission  of  his  grace  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
from  a  MS.  (No.  251)  in  the  Lambeth  library.  These  papers  appear  to  have 
been  written  by  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  the  father  of  the  extraordinary  young  man 
to  whom  they  refer,  the  eldest  brother  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  sen.  and  the  com- 
piler of  the  original  MS.  from  which  Dr.  Peckard's  Memoirs  of  the  elder 
Nicholas  are  taken.  They  were  written  probably  in  the  year  1653;  but  to 
whom  they  are  addressed,  it  does  not  appear. 

*  First  Work.]  A.  copy  of  this  work,  of  which  the  title,  with  one  or  two 
trifling  variations,  agrees  with  that  given  above,  but  dated  in  1 635,  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  See  above,  p.  199,  note.  It  is  in  old  green  morocco 
binding  richly  gilt.  The  present  editor  has  also  seen,  in  the  possession  of 
his  friend  the  Rev.  Thomas  Dowdier,  the  representative  of  the  last  baronet 
of  the  Cotton  family,  another  copy  of  this  work,  dated  1635.  Conington, 
the  seat  of  the  Cottons,  is  not  more  than  five  miles  from  Little  Gidding.  Of 
the  Fenrar  volumes  given  to  George  Herbert  and  Dr.  Thomas  Jackson  (see 
p.  197)  no  trace  has  been  found.  Mr.  Mapletoft's  was  afterwards  in  the 


Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  as  they  are  related  by  the  Four  Evangelists,  reduced 
into  one  complete  body  of  history ;  wherein  that  which  is  severally  related  by 
them,  is  digested  into  order,  and  that  which  is  jointly  related  by  all,  or  any  of 
them,  is  first  expressed  in  their  own  words,  by  way  of  comparison ;  secondly, 
brought  into  one  narration,  by  way  of  composition ;  thirdly,  extracted  into 
one  clear  context,  by  way  of  collection  :  yet  so  as  whatsoever  was  omitted  in 
the  context,  is  inserted  by  way  of  supplement  in  another  print,  and  in  such 
a  manner  as  all  the  Four  Evangelists  may  easily  be  read  severally,  and  dis- 
tinctly, each  a-part  and  alone,  from  first  to  last 1.  Done  at  Little  Gidding, 
anno  1630. 

In  each  page  throughout  the  whole  book  were  sundry  exquisite  pictures 
added,  expressing  either  the  facts  themselves,  or  other  types  and  figures,  or 
matters  appertaining  thereunto,  much  to  the  pleasure  of  the  eye,  and  delight 
to  the  reader. 

2.  SECOND  WoRK2. 

The  history  of  the  Israelites,  from  the  death  of  king  Saul,  to  the  carrying 
away  captive  into  Babylon  :  collected  out  of  the  books  of  Kings  and  Chroni- 
cles, in  the  words  of  the  texts  themselves,  without  any  alteration  of  importance 
by  addition  to  them,  or  diminution  from  them  :  whereby,  first,  all  the  actions 
and  passages,  which  are  in  either  of  the  books  of  Kings  or  Chronicles,  whe- 
ther jointly  or  severally,  are  reduced  into  the  body  of  one  complete  narration ; 
secondly,  they  are  digested  into  an  orderly  dependancy  one  upon  the  other ; 
thirdly,  many  difficult  places  are  cleared:  and  many  seeming  differences 
between  the  books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles  compounded :  and  all  this  so 
contrived,  as  notwithstanding  these  mutual  compositions  of  the  books  of 
Kings  and  Chronicles  in  this  historical  collection,  yet  the  form  of  each 

possession  of  Mr.  Heming  of  Hillingdon ;  and  other  copies  have  been  said  to 
exist  in  the  libraries  of  the  marquis  of  Salisbury,  and  St.  John's  College, 

1  First  to  last.']   From  a  copy  of  this  Harmony  Dr.  Peckard  produces 
(p.  274)  the  following  memorandum  : 

"This  book  was  presented  by  my  great-grandmother,  by  my  honoured 
mother's  two  sisters  (the  daughters  of  John  and  Susanna  Collet),  and  by 
their  uncle  Nicholas  Ferrar,  who  was  my  godfather,  to  my  ever  honoured 
mother,  Susanna  Mapletoft,  the  same  year  in  which  I  was  born  (1631). 
And  I  desire  my  son,  to  whom  I  do  give  it,  with  the  Great  Concordance, 
and  other  story  books,  that  it  may  be  preserved  in  the  family  as  long  as 
may  be. 

"  JOHN  MAPLETOFT,  Jan.  23,  1715." 

2  Second  Work.']  A  copy  of  this,  dated  1637,  is  also  in  the  British  Museum, 
to  which  it  came  with  the  old  Royal  Library.     It  is  also  in  old  green  morocco 
binding,  ornamented  with  lines  of  gold.     The  British  Museum  also  possesses, 
from  the  same  source,  a  work  by  the  Ferrars  family  not  hitherto  described, 
it  is  in  two  parts,  entitled  Acta  Apostolorum  elegantiss.  monochromatis  delineata. 
The  Revelation  of  St.  John  the  Divine.     In  a  large  folio  volume,  in  old  green 
morocco,  richly  gilt,  of  a  different  pattern  from  either  of  the  preceding. 


of  them  is  preserved  intire,  in  such  a  manner  as  they  may  easily  be  read 
severally  and  distinctly,  from  first  to  last.  Also  there  are  three  sundry  kinds 
of  tables :  theirs/  summarily  declaring  the  several  heads  and  chapters,  into 
which  this  historical  collection  is  divided ;  the  second  specifying  what  passages 
are  related  in  the  aforesaid  books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles,  and  what  are 
jointly  related  by  them  both,  as  also  in  what  heads  and  chapters  in  the  col- 
lection they  may  be  found ;  the  third  shewing  where  every  chapter  of  the 
texts  themselves,  and  every  part  of  them  may  be  very  readily  found  in  this 

N.  There  is  an  intention,  and  preparation  making  (if  the  times  permit)  to 
make  a  second  piece  in  this  kind  :  but  to  illustrate  it  in  a  more  pleasant  and 
profitable  way,  and  manner,  than  this  first  work  was  done.  The  good  Lord 
say  Amen  to  it ! 



The  actions,  doctrines  and  other  passages  touching  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ,  as  they  are  related  by  the  Four  Evangelists;  harmonically, 
symmetrically,  and  collaterally  placed,  in  four  languages,  English,  Latin, 
French,  Italian,  reduced  into  one  complete  body  of  history;  wherein  that 
which  is  severally  related  by  them,  is  digested  into  order,  and  that  which  is 
jointly  related  by  all  or  any  of  them,  is  first  extracted  into  one  narration,  by 
way  of  composition ;  secondly,  brought  into  one  clear  context,  by  the  way  of 
collection :  to  which  are,  in  all  the  pages  of  the  book,  added  sundry  of  the  best 
pictures  that  could  be  gotten,  expressing  the  facts  themselves,  or  their  types, 
figures,  or  other  matters  appertaining  thereunto;  done  at  Little  Gidding, 
anno  1640. 


The  Gospel  of  our  blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  according  to 
the  holy  Evangelists,  in  eight  several  languages,  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin, 
French,  Spanish,  High  Dutch,  Saxon  and  Welsh,  all  interpreted  with  Latin 
or  English,  word  for  word,  interlineally  placed,  and  at  one  view  to  be  seen 
and  read ;  so  done  and  contrived  for  the  use  and  benefit  of  all  such  as  are 
desirous  with  sureness,  ease,  speed  and  pleasure,  to  attain  to  the  knowledge 
of  these  languages  :  likewise  it  may  be  of  very  good  help  to  strangers  that 
may  desire  to  learn  the  English  tongue. 


Novum  Testamentum  Domini  et  Salvatoris  Nostri  Jesu  Christi  viginti 
quatuor  linguis  expressum,  vid. 

1.  Hebraice.  7.  Anglo-Saxonice. 

2.  Greece.  8.  Muscovitire. 

3.  Syriace.  9.  Cambro-Britannice. 

4.  Arabice.  10.  Belgice. 

5.  jEthiopice.  11.  Suedice. 

6.  Latine.  12.  Hibernice. 


13.  Germanice.  19.  Gallice. 

14.  Polonice.  20.  Ttalice. 

15.  Danice.  21.  Hispanice. 

16.  Bohemice.  22.  Cantabrice. 

17.  Hungarice.  23.  Lusitanice. 

18.  Anglice.  24.  Sclavonice. 

Unaquaeque  lingua  proprio  suo  charactere  scripta,  et  omnes  Harmonice  et 
Symmetrice  collocate,  etiamque  Syriaca  literis  et  vocalibus  Hebraicis  scripta, 
cum  interlineari  Latina  interpretatione  insuper  adjecta. 


Sacrosanctum  S.  Johannis  Evangelium  in  totidem  linguis  quot  sunt 
capita,  vid. 

Caput  Caput 

1.  jEthiopice.  12.  Germanice. 

2.  Greece.  13.  Hungarice. 

3.  Syriace.  14.  Gallice. 

4.  Arabice.  15.  Italice. 

5.  Latine.  16.  Hispanice. 

6.  Saxonice.  17.  Suedice. 

7.  Hebraice.  18.  Danice. 

8.  Anglice.  19.  Polonice. 

9.  Cambro-Britannice.  20.  Belgice. 

10.  Bohemice.  21.  Hibernice  et  Muscovitice. 

11.  Cantabrice. 

Et  unaqueeque  lingua  per  interlinearem  Latinam  interpretationem  ad 
verbum  redditam  et  positam,  explicata. 

Some  Observations  that  happened  upon  these  forenamed  Works,  done 
at  Gidding,  and  the  acceptation  of  them  by  the  King  and 

1.  Upon  the  first  work. 

His  sacred  majesty,  anno  1631,  having  heard  of  some  rare 
contrivements,  as  he  was  pleased  to  term  them,  of  books  done  at 
Little  Gidding  in  Huntingdonshire,  in  an  unusual  way  and  manner, 
for  their  own  private  uses  and  employments;  and  that  the 
younger  sort  learned  them  without  book,  and  hourly  made  repeti- 
tion of  some  part  of  them,  that  so  both  their  hands  and  minds 
might  be  partakers  in  what  was  good  and  useful :  it  so  happened 
that  being  at  Apthorpe  *  at  the  earl  of  Westmoreland's  house,  in 

3  At  Apthorpe.']  In  Northamptonshire. 


his  progress,  about  seven  miles  off  Gidding  ;  he  sent  a  gentleman 
of  his  court,  well  loved  of  him,  to  Gidding ;  who  came  and  de- 
clared, that  the  king  his  master  desired  that  there  might  be  sent 
by  him  A  BOOK,  but  he  knew  not  the  name  of  it,  that  was  made 
at  Gidding,  and  somewhat  of  it  every  hour  repeated  by  them. 
The  tidings  were  much  unexpected,  and  Nicholas  Ferrar  at 
London.  Leave  was  craved,  that  the  deferring  of  the  sending  of 
it  might  be  respited  one  week,  and  the  king  might  be  informed, 
that  the  book  was  wholly  unfitting  every  way  for  a  king^s  eye  : 
and  those  that  had  given  him  any  notice  of  such  a  thing  had 
much  misinformed  his  majesty ;  and  when  he  should  see  it,  he 
would  con  them  no  thanks 4,  the  book  being  made  only  for  the 
young  people  in  the  family.  But  all  excuses  could  not  satisfy 
this  gentleman.  He  said  if  we  enforced  him  to  go  without  it, 
he  knew  he  should  be  again  sent  for  it  that  night ;  and  no  nays 
he  would  have.  So  necessity  enforced  the  delivery;  and  the 
gentleman  seemed  greatly  contented  ;  took  the  book,  saying  not 
his  man,  but  himself  would  carry  it :  he  knew  it  would  be  an 
acceptable  service  to  his  master ;  and  engaged  his  faith,  that  at 
the  king^s  departure  from  Apthorpe,  he  would  bring  it  again. 
But  a  quarter  of  a  year  past.  Then  came  the  gentleman  again ; 
but  brought  no  book  ;  but  after  much  compliment  said,  the  king 
so  liked  the  work  itself,  and  the  contrivement  of  it  in  all  kinds, 
that  there  had  not  a  day  passed,  but  the  king,  in  the  midst  of  all 
his  progress  and  sports,  spent  one  hour  in  the  perusing  of  it : 
and  that  would  apparently  be  seen  by  the  notations  he  had  made 
upon  the  margins  of  it  with  his  own  hand  :  and  that  his  master 
would  upon  no  terms  part  with  it,  except  he  brought  him  a  pro- 
mise from  the  family,  that  they  would  make  him  one  for  his  daily 
use,  which  he  should  esteem  as  a  rich  jewel.  Some  months 
after  the  gentleman,  acquainting  the  king  what  he  had  done  in 
obedience  to  his  command,  brought  back  the  book  from  London 
to  Gidding ;  saying,  that  upon  the  condition  that  within  the  space 
of  twelve  months  the  king  might  have  one  made  him,  he  was  to 
render  back  that  again ;  and  so  with  many  courtly  terms  he  <]<>- 
I  .art  «'d,  with  intimation  from  Nicholas  Ferrar,  that  his  majesty^ 
commands  should  be  obeyed. 

4  He  would  con  them  no  thanks. ,]  So,  "  Frend  Hoggarde,  /  cun  you  thanke, 
that  you  have  learned  somewhat  at  Father  Latimer'8  Sermons." — Robert 
Crowley's  Confutation  of  the  Aunswer  to  the  Ballad,  called  "  The  Abuse  of  the 
Blested  Sacrament  of  the  Altare."  Signat.  A  3.  b.  A.D.  1548. 


The  book  being  opened,  there  was  found,  as  the  gentleman 
had  said,  the  king's  notes  in  many  places  in  the  margin ;  which 
testified  the  king's  diligent  perusal  of  it.  And  in  one  place  which 
is  not  to  be  forgotten,  to  the  eternal  memory  of  his  majesty's 
superlative  humility  (no  small  virtue  in  a  king,)  having  written 
something  in  one  place,  he  puts  it  out  again  very  neatly  with  his 
pen.  But  that,  it  seems,  not  contenting  him,  he  vouchsafes  to 
underwrite,  " I  confess  my  error:  it  was  well  before"  (an  example 
to  all  his  subjects)  "/  was  mista&en." 

Before  the  year  came  about,  such  diligence  and  expedition  was 
used,  that  a  book  was  presented  to  his  majesty,  being  bound  in 
crimson  velvet,  and  richly  gilded  upon  the  velvet,  a  thing  not 
usual.  The  king  gratiously  with  a  cheerful  countenance  received 
it :  and  after  a  curious  perusal,  after  having  asked  many  questions 
concerning  the  work,  and  the  parties  that  had  done  it ;  said  to 
the  lord's  grace  of  Canterbury,  and  divers  other  lords  that  stood 
about  him,  (doctor  Cosin  being  also  there,  that  was  his  chaplain 
for  that  month),  "  Truly  my  lords,  I  prize  this  as  a  rare  and  rich 
jewel,  and  worth  a  king's  acceptance.  The  substance  of  it  is  of 
the  best  alloy  in  the  world,  and  ought  to  be  the  only  desirable 
book.  And  for  the  skill,  care,  cost,  used  in  it,  there  is  no  defect, 
but  a  superlative  diligence  in  all  about  it.  I  very  much  thank 
them  all :  and  it  shall  be  my  Vade  mecum.  How  happy  a  king 
were  I,  if  I  had  many  more  such  workmen  and  women  in  my  king- 
dom. God's  blessing  on  their  hearts,  and  painful  hands  !  I  know 
they  will  receive  no  reward  for  it."  Then  he  gave  the  book  to 
the  lords  to  peruse,  saying,  there  are  fine  pictures  in  it.  The  lords 
said,  they  believed  the  like  book  was  not  in  the  world  to  be  seen. 
It  was  a  precious  gem,  and  worthy  of  his  cabinet. 

Then  said  the  king  to  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  and  to  doctor 
Cosin,  "  What  think  you  ?  Will  not  these  good  people  be  willing 
that  I  put  them  to  a  further  trouble  ?  I  find  their  ability  and  art 
is  excellent :  and  why  should  I  doubt  of  their  condescension  to 
my  desire  2"  "  Your  majesty  need  not,"  replied  the  archbishop  ; 
and  doctor  Cosin  seconded  him.  "  We  know  they  will  fulfill 
your  commands  in  all  things  in  their  powers."  "  Well,"  said  the 
king,  "let  me  tell  you,  I  often  read  the  books  of  Kings  and 
Chronicles,  as  is  befitting  a  king:  but  in  many  things,  I  find 
some  seeming  contradictions ;  and  one  book  saith  more,  and  the 
other  less,  in  many  circumstances  the  latter  being  a  supply  to  the 
former.  Now  I  seeing  this  judicious  and  well- contrived  book 


of  the  Four  Evangelists,  I  gladly  would  have  these  skilful  persons 
to  make  me  another  book  that  might  so  be  ordered,  that  I  might 
read  these  stories  of  Kings  and  Chronicles  so  interwoven  by 
them,  as  if  one  pen  had  written  the  whole  books  ;  and  to  make  it 
a  complete  history  altogether :  yet  so  again  ordering  the  matter, 
that  I  may  also  read  them  severally  and  apart,  if  I  would.  I 
have  often  spoken  to  many  of  my  chaplains  about  this  thing ; 
but  they  have  excused  themselves  (from  it)  as  a  difficult  work, 
and  (they)  not  skilful  in  that  way."  "  Let  your  majesty  rest 
contented,  and  doubt  not,  but  with  the  best  expedition  that  can 
be,  the  thing  shall  be  done  as  you  intimate.  Doctor  Cosin  shall 
acquaint  them  speedily  with  your  majesty's  pleasure." 

So  intimation  was  given  them  at  Gidding  of  this  thing :  and 
they  with  all  care  and  diligence  instantly  set  about  it.  And  thus 
was  this  second  work,  (as  you  see  in  the  insuing  title,)  begun 
and  finished  in  a  year's  time.  And  what  happened  in  the  pre- 
senting and  acceptation  of  it,  you  shall  find  by  the  insuing  dis- 
course that  follows  upon  it. 

THE  SECOND  WOIIK  done  at  Little  Gidding,  whereof  the  title  is 
as  you  see,  was  in  the  time  of  twelve  months  finished ;  and  the 
proceedings  that  happened  thereupon,  here  insueth. 

The  king's  most  excellent  majesty  having  in  the  interim  often 
demanded  when  the  book  would  be  done,  saying  the  time  seemed 
long  unto  him  till  he  saw  it : 

It  being  now  sent  up  to  London,  my  lord  of  Canterbury  under- 
standing so  much  by  Dr.  Cosin  and  one  Mr.  Ramsay,  that  had 
married  one  of  the  daughters  of  the  family,  he  being  a  minister, 
desired  it  might  be  brought  such  a  day  to  court.  My  lord  took 
it,  and  perused  it,  and  to  admiration  beheld  it,  saying,  u  Here  is 
a  master-piece  indeed  in  all  kinds,  inside  and  outside,  all  per- 
formed by  those  judicious  heads,  and  active  hands  of  Little 
Gidding.  Sure  these,  and  the  like  words  they  intend,  deserve  to 
make  it  alter  its  name  from  Parva  to  Magna.  Come,  said  he, 
let  us  go  to  the  king,  who,  I  am  sure,  will  bid  us  welcome  for 
tl»is  royal  present."1 

At  their  coming  into  the  room  where  the  king  was,  he  seeing 


my  lord  of  Canterbury  to  have  a  stately  great  book  in  his  two 
hands,  presently  rose  out  of  his  chair  where  he  was  sitting,  many 
lords  then  standing  round  about  him :  "  What,"  said  he,  "  shall 
I  now  enjoy  that  rich  jewel  I  have  thus  long  desired  1  Have  you 
my  lord,  brought  me  my  book?"  "  Yea  sir,"  replied  the  bishop 
of  Canterbury.  "  Give  it  me ;  give  it  me,"  said  the  king.  "  Your 
expectations,  sir,"  said  he,  "are  not  only  performed,  but  out  of 
doubt  many  ways  surpassed.  For  my  own  part,  I  wonder  at  the 
work,  and  all  the  parts  of  it."  "  Let  me  have  it ;"  said  the  king. 
So  smiling  he  took  it,  and  carried  it  to  the  table. 

Then  first  seriously  viewing  the  outside  of  the  book,  being 
bound  curiously  in  purple  velvet,  and  that  also  most  artificially 
gilt  upon  the  velvet  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  he  said,  "  My 
lords,  the  outside  thus  glorious,  what  think  you  will  be  the  inside 
and  matter  of  it  ?"  Then  untying  the  stately  string,  he  opening 
it  read  the  frontispiece  and  contents  of  the  book  :  then  turning 
to  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  he  said,  "  You  have  given  me  a  right 
character  of  the  work  :  truly  it  passeth  what  I  could  have  wished : 
and  what  I  think  none  but  those  heads  and  hands  in  my  kingdom, 
can  do  the  like  again."  And  so  he  began  to  view  it  leaf  by  leaf, 
and  turned  it  all  over  very  diligently,  observing  the  form  and  con- 
trivement  of  it.  Then  looking  upon  his  lords,  that  had  their  eyes 
also  fixed  upon  it,  he  said,  "  My  lords,  this,  this  is  a  jewel  in  all 
respects,  to  be  continually  worn  on  a  king's  breast,  and  in  his 
heart."  And  then  he  shewed  them  the  fair  orderly  contrivement 
of  the  joint  books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles,  thus  united  together 
in  one  history,  "as  if  written,"  said  he,  "by  one  man's  pen." 
And  so,  many  words  passed  about  it,  between  the  lords  and  the 
king,  they  extolling  it  as  an  excellent  piece.  "  Well,"  said  the 
king,  "  I  will  not  part  with  this  diamond,  for  all  those  in  rny 
Jewel-house.  For  it  is  so  delightful  to  me  :  and  I  know  the  vir- 
tues of  it  will  pass  all  the  precious  stones  in  the  world.  It  is  a 
most  rare  crystall  glass,  and  most  useful,  and  needful,  and  profit- 
able for  me  and  all  kings.  It  shews  and  represents  to  the  life, 
God's  exceeding  high  and  rich  mercies,  to  all  pious  and  virtuous 
kings,  and  likewise  his  severe  justice  to  all  ill  and  bad.  What 
then  more  profitable  to  us  all,  or  more  needful?  It  shall,  I 
assure  you,  be  my  companion  in  the  day  time  :  and  the  sweetest 
perfumed  bags  that  can  lie  under  my  head  in  the  night.  Truly  I 
am  very  much  taken  with  it  at  all  times ;  but  more,  it  being  thus 
comprised  in  a  full  pleasant  history.  My  lord  of  Canterbury,  I 

VOL.  IV.  Q 


now  perceive  that  these  good  people  at  Gidding  can  do  more 
works  in  this  kind,  than  this.  Let  them  have  my  hearty  thanks 
returned.  I  know  they  look  for  none,  neither  will  they  receive 
any  reward.  Yet  let  them  know,  as  occasion  shall  be,  I  will  not 
forget  them  :  and  God  bless  them  in  their  good  intentions  ! "  And 
so  after  some  more  talk  the  lords  had  of  Gidding,  the  king  took 
up  the  book,  and  went  away  with  it  in  his  arms. 

Some  while  after,  doctor  Cosin  gave  notice,  that  the  king,  the 
more  he  perused  both  books  given  him,  the  more  he  liked  them ; 
and  had  conference  with  him  about  the  printing  of  them,  that,  as 
he  said,  "  all  his  people  might  have  the  benefit  of  them."  And 
doctor  Cosin  told  the  king,  it  was  a  kingly  motion,  and  by  his 
majesty's  favour,  they  should  be  put  out,  as  at  his  command,  and 
the  latter  as  done  by  his  directions. 

N.  It  is  to  be  known,  that  these  works  were  so  done  as  if  they 
had  been  printed  the  ordinary  way ;  as  most  that  saw  them  did 
think  so.  But  it  was  in  another  kind  done;  though  all  was 
printed  indeed,  and  not  written,  as  some  may  conceive  at  the 
reading  of  the  titles  of  the  books. 

THE  THIRD  WORK  was  occasioned  and  effected  upon  a  letter 
sent  to  Gidding  from  a  person  of  honour,  that  the  prince,  having 
seen  the  king  his  father's  book,  that  was  first  of  all  presented 
him,  of  the  Concordance  of  the  Four  Evangelists,  &c.  would  have 
fain  begged  it  of  the  king ;  but  he  told  him,  he  might  not  part 
with  that  rich  jewel,  for  he  daily  made  use  of  it ;  but  if  he  desired 
one,  he  made  no  question,  but  the  same  heart  and  hands  that 
framed  his,  would  fit  him  also  with  one  for  his  use;  and 
hoped  he  would  make  good  use  of  it,  for  it  was  the  book  of 
books,  &c. 

Upon  the  intimation  given  of  the  prince's  desire,  though  Mr. 
Nicholas  Ferrar,  senior,  was  then  with  God,  yet  his  young 
nephew,  that  bare  his  name,  whom  his  uncle  entirely  loved,  (not 
permitting  him  to  be  any  where  brought  up  but  at  Gidding.  and 
under  his  own  eye)  having  seen  all  the  former  works  done  in  the 
house;  his  beloved  kinswomen,  that  were  the  handy-work  mis- 
tresses of  the  former,  were  also  most  willing  to  lay  to  their  help- 


ing  assistances;  so  the  young  youth,  having  attained  to  the 
knowledge  of  many  languages  (as  you  shall  hear  hereafter,  being 
a  study  that  his  wise,  judicious  uncle,  Nicholas  Ferrar,  had  put 
him  upon,  finding  him  every  way  fitted  naturally  for  such  know- 
ledge,) they  laying  their  heads  together,  thought  a  concordance 
of  four  several  languages  would  be  most  useful,  and  beneficial, 
and  pleasant  to  the  young  prince's  disposition ;  and  so,  in  the 
name  of  God,  after  all  materials  were  provided  and  ready,  they 
uniting  their  heads  and  hands  lovingly  together,  setting  apart  so 
many  hours  in  the  fore-noons,  and  so  many  in  the  afternoons,  as 
their  other  exercises  and  occasions  permitted,  constantly  met  in 
a  long  fair  spacious  room,  which  they  named  the  Concordance 
Chamber,  wherein  were  large  tables  round  the  sides  of  the  walls, 
placed  for  their  better  conveniency  and  contrivement  of  their 
works  of  this  and  the  like  kind ;  and  therein  also  were  placed 
two  very  large  and  great  presses,  which  were  turned  with  iron 
bars,  for  the  effecting  of  their  designs. 

And  now  we  are  in  the  Concordance  room  (which  was  all 
coloured  over  with  green  pleasant  colour  varnished,  for  the  more 
pleasure  to  their  eyes,  and  a  chimney  in  it  for  more  warmth,  as 
occasion  served,)  let  me  here  relate,  that  each  person  of  the 
family,  and  some  other  good  friends  of  their  kindred,  gave  each 
their  sentence,  which  should  be  written  round  the  upper  part  of 
the  walls  of  the  room ;  that  so  when  they  entered  the  chamber, 
or  at  any  time  looked  up  from  the  walls,  these  sentences  pre- 
sented themselves  to  their  eyes. — As  you  entered  in  at  the  door 
into  the  room,  over  your  head  at  that  end  was  written  that  sen- 
tence of  Scripture,  that  their  uncle,  of  blessed  memory,  did  fre- 
quently use  upon  several  occasions. 

At  the  upper  end  was  written  high  upon  the  wall — 

"  Glory  le  to  God  on  High, 
Peace  on  Earth,  Good  will  toward  Men" 

^Prosper  thou,  0  Lord,  the  work  of  our  hands. 
0 prosper  thou  our  handy  works" 

And  under  it,  (on  each  side  of  that  upper  window,)  on  the  one 
side  was  written : 

"  Thou  art  too  delicate,  0  brother,  if  thou  desirest  to  reign 
both  here  with  the  world,  and  hereafter  to  reign  with  Christ  in 


And  on  the  other  side  of  the  window ; 

"  Innocency  is  never  better  lodged  than  at  the  Sign  of  Labour" 
And  then  on  both  sides  of  the  walls  there  are  written, 

"  Love  not  sleep,  least  thou  come  to  poverty. 

Open  thine  eyes,  and  thou  shalt  be  satisfied  with  bread." 

"  He  that  spendeih  his  time — " 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  diligent  in  his  business,  Jte  shall  stand  before 

"  The  industrious  man  hath  no  leisure  to  sin ;  and  the  idle  man 
hath  no  power  to  avoid  sin." 

THIS  THIRD  WORK  thus  finished,  it  was  upon  consultation 
thought  fitting,  that  it  should  not  go  single  and  alone,  but  to  stay 
awhile  till  Nicholas  Ferrar,  junior,  had  finished  and  ordered  four 
other  pieces  of  works,  being  businesses  of  many  and  several  lan- 
guages, and  the  titles  of  them  are  those  four  succeeding  frontis- 
pieces, that  follow  one  after  the  other,  as  you  have  seen :  the 
Four  Evangelists,  in  such  and  such  languages  as  is  there  de- 
scribed, written  by  his  own  hand,  and  so  composed  by  his  head 
and  industry. 

All  these  five  pieces,  that  one  for  the  prince,  and  four  for  the 
king,  being  all  made  ready,  they  were  carried  up  to  London ;  but 
in  the  way  they  went  by  Cambridge,  and  there  were  shewed  to 
some  eminent  persons,  a  bishop  then  present  there,  and  other 
learned  scholars  (and  before  that  time,  also  to  the  bishop  of 
Peterborough,  and  other  doctors  that  there  had  sight  of  them). 
All  these  learned  men  gave  their  approbation  to  the  works,  and 
no  small  commendation,  as  well  as  admiration,  that  they  were  so 
contrived  and  ordered,  for  substance  and  form,  by  one  of  those 
tender  years. 

Nicholas  Ferrar  coming  to  London,  as  he  had  directions,  ad- 
dressed himself  to  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  from  him  to  receive 
orders  how  to  proceed.  Who  when  he  saw  the  young  man,  and 
was  informed  of  his  errand,  by  those  that  conducted  him  to  his 
presence,  the  young  man  kneeling  down,  craving  his  blessing,  and 
kissing  his  hand,  my  lord  embraced  him  very  lovingly,  took  him 
up,  and  after  some  salutes,  he  desired  a  sight  of  the  books ;  which 


when  he  had  well  seen  and  perused,  he  very  highly  commended 
them  in  every  particular,  and  said,  "  These  truly  are  jewels  only 
for  princes :  and  your  printed  one  will  greatly  take  the  prince,  to 
whom  I  perceive  you  intend  it.  So  will  the  other  four  pieces  be 
no  less  acceptable  to  the  king  himself ;  and  so  all  things,  the  form, 
the  matter,  the  writing,  will  make  the  king  admire  them,  I  know. 
And,"  said  he, '"  but  that  my  eyes  see  the  things,  I  should  hardly 
have  given  credit  to  my  ears,  from  any  relation  made  of  them  by 
another.  But,"  said  he,  "I  now  find,  great  is  education,  when  it 
meets  with  answerable  ability,  and  had  its  directions  from  so 
eminent  a  man,  as  that  counsellor  was,  that  gave  the  hints  and 
rise  to  all  these  contrivements  before  his  death."  And  after 
much  discourse  he  gave  Nicholas  Ferrar  leave  to  depart.  And 
gave  directions  that  next  day  in  the  afternoon,  being  Maundy 
Thursday,  Nicholas  Ferrar  should  be  in  such  a  room  at  White 

The  bishop  came  at  the  time  he  had  appointed  to  that  room, 
where  he  found  Nicholas  Ferrar  and  others  waiting  his  leisure. 
And  they  perceived  he  came  out  of  another  room  where  the  king 
then  was.  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  in  God's  name,  follow  me,  where 
I  go ;"  and  led  them  into  a  room,  where  the  king  stood  by  the 
fire,  with  many  nobles  attending  him.  When  the  king  saw  the 
archbishop  enter  the  room,  he  said,  "  What,  have  you  brought 
with  you  those  rarities  and  jewels  you  told  me  of  2"  "  Yea,  sire," 
replied  the  bishop,  "  here  is  the  young  gentleman,  and  his  works." 
So  the  bishop  taking  him  by  the  hand,  led  him  up  to  the  king. 
He  falling  down  on  his  knees,  the  king  gave  him  his  hand  to  kiss, 
bidding  him  rise  up.  The  box  was  opened ;  and  Nicholas  Ferrar 
first  presented  to  the  king  that  book  made  for  the  prince  :  who 
taking  it  from  him,  looking  well  on  the  outside,  which  was  all 
green  velvet,  stately  and  richly  gilt  all  over,  with  great  broad 
strings,  edged  with  gold  lace,  and  curiously  bound,  said,  "  Here 
is  a  fine  book  for  Charles  indeed  !  I  hope  it  will  soon  make  him 
in  love  with  what  is  within  it :  for  I  know  it  is  good."  So  open- 
ing it,  and  with  much  pleasure  perusing  it,  he  said  merrily  to  the 
lords,  "  What  think  you  of  it  ?  For  my  part,  I  like  it  in  all 
respects  exceeding  well ;  and  find  Charles  will  here  have  a  double 
benefit  by  the  well  contrivement  of  it,  not  only  obtain  by  the 
daily  reading  in  it  a  full  information  of  our  blessed  Saviour's  life, 
doctrine,  and  actions  (the  chief  foundation  of  Christian  religion ;) 
but  the  knowledge  of  four  languages,  A  couple  of  better  things 


a  prince  cannot  desire ;  nor  the  world  recommend  unto  him.     And 
lo  !  here  are  also  store  of  rare  pictures  to  delight  his  eye  with." 

Then  Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  king  looking  upon  him,  bowing 
himself  to  the  ground,  said,  "  May  it  please  your  sacred  majesty, 
this  work  was  undertaken  upon  the  prince's  command.  But  I 
dared  not  present  it  to  him,  till  it  had  your  majesty's  approbation 
and  allowance."  "  Why  so  ?"  said  the  king ;  "  It  is  an  excellent 
thing  for  him,  and  will  do  him  much  good."  "  Sir,"  said  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  "  my  learned  and  religious  wise  uncle,  under  whose  wings 
I  was  covered,  and  had  my  education  from  my  youth,  gave  me 
amongst  other  rules,  this  one  :  that  I  should  never  give  any  thing, 
though  never  so  good  or  fitting,  to  any  person  whatever,  that  had 
a  superior  over  him,  without  his  consent  and  approbation  first 
obtained  :  as  nothing  to  a  son,  to  a  wife,  to  a  servant :  for  he 
said  it  was  not  seemly  nor  comely  so  to  do.  Whereupon,  sir,  I 
have  by  the  favour  of  my  lord  of  Canterbury's  grace,  come  to 
present  this  piece  unto  your  majesty's  view,  and  to  beg  your  good 
leave  to  carry  it  to  the  prince."  The  king  with  attention  heard 
all,  and  turning  him  to  the  lords,  said,  "  You  all  hear  this  wise 
counsel,  and  you  all  see  the  practice  of  it.  I  do  assure  you,  it 
doth  wonderfully  please  me.  I  like  the  rule  well :  and  it  is  worthy 
of  all  our  practice.  And  now  you  see  we  all  have  gained  by  the 
sight  of  this  rich  jewel  a  third  good  thing."  Then  turning  him 
to  the  lord  of  Canterbury,  he  said,  "  Let  this  young  gentleman 
have  your  letters  to  the  prince  to-morrow,  to  Richmond,  and  let 
him  carry  this  present.  It  is  a  good  day  you  know,  and  a  good 
work  would  be  done  upon  it."  So  he  gave  Nicholas  Ferrar  the 
book :  who  carrying  it  to  the  box,  took  out  of  it  a  very  large 
paper  book,  which  was  the  FOURTH  WORK,  and  laid  it  on  the  table 
before  the  king.  "  For  whom,"  said  the  king,  "is  this  model?" 
"  For  your  majesty's  eyes,  if  you  please  to  honour  it  so  much." 
"  And  that  I  will  gladly  do,"  said  the  king,  "  and  never  be  weary 
of  such  sights  as  I  know  you  will  offer  unto  me." 

The  king  having  well  perused  the  title  page,  beginning,  "  The 
Gospel  of  our  Lord  and  Blessed  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  in  eight  several 
languages,  &c"  said  unto  the  lords,  "  You  all  see,  that  one  good 
thing  produceth  another.  Her<  \\v  have  more  and  moiv  r;u 
from  print  now  to  pen.  These  are  fair  hands  \\vll  written,  and  as 
well  composed."  Then  replied  the  lord  of  Canterbury,  "when 
your  majesty  hath  seen  all,  yon  \\iil  have  more  and  more  cause  to 
admire."  M  What  !"  said  tin-  kin«j,  u  is  it  possible-  we  shall  !><•- 


hold  yet  more  rarities ?"  "Then,"  said  the  bishop  to  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  "  reach  the  other  piece  that  is  in  the  box :"  and  this  we 
call  the  FIFTH  WORK,  the  title  being  Novum  Testamentum,  &c.  in 
viginti  quatuor  linguis,  &c.  The  king  opening  the  book  said, 
"  Better  and  better.  This  is  the  largest  and  fairest  paper  that 
ever  I  saw."  Then,  reading  the  title  page,  he  said,  "  What  is 
this  ?  What  have  we  here  ?  The  incomparablest  book  this  will 
be,  as  ever  eye  beheld.  My  lords,  come,  look  well  upon  it.  This 
finished  must  be  the  emperor  of  all  books.  It  is  the  crown  of  all 
works.  It  is  an  admirable  master-piece.  The  world  cannot 
match  it.  I  believe  you  are  all  of  my  opinion.  The  lords  all 
seconded  the  king,  and  each  spake  his  mind  of  it.  "  I  observe 
two  things  amongst  others,"  said  the  king,  "  very  remarkable,  if 
not  admirable.  The  first  is,  how  it  is  possible,  that  a  young  man 
of  twenty-one  years  of  age,"  (for  he  had  asked  the  lord  of  Can- 
terbury before,  how  old  Nicholas  Ferrar  was)  "  should  ever  attain 
to  the  understanding  and  knowledge  of  more  languages,  than  he 
is  of  years ;  and  to  have  the  courage  to  venture  upon  such  an 
Atlas  work,  or  Hercules  labour.  The  other  is  also  of  high  com- 
mendation, to  see  him  write  so  many  several  languages,  so  well  as 
these  are,  each  in  its  proper  character.  Sure  so  few  years  had 
been  well  spent,  some  men  might  think,  to  have  attained  only  to 
the  writing  thus  fairly  of  these  twenty-four  languages."  All  the 
lords  replied,  his  majesty  had  judged  right ;  and  said,  except  they 
had  seen  as  they  did,  the  young  gentleman  there,  and  the  book 
itself,  all  the  world  should  not  have  persuaded  them  to  the  belief 
of  it.  And  so  much  discourse  passed  upon  the  business  to  and 
fro,  and  many  questions  demanded  and  answered,  here,  too  long  to 

"  Well,"  said  the  king  to  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  "  there  is 
one  thing  yet  that  I  would  be  fully  satisfied  in,  and  see  the  proof 
and  real  demonstration  of  it,  over  and  above  what  I  have  yet 
seen.  I  do  really  believe  and  know,  that  these  persons  here 
would  not  present  this  unto  me,  or  any  thing  else,  that  were  not 
full  of  truth.  I  say,  I  no  way  doubt  of  all  I  have  seen :  yet  if 
I  may  be  resolved  in  one  question,  that  I  shall  demand,  it  will 
wonderfully  please  me.  The  thing,  my  lord,  is  this.  Let  me,  if 
it  be  possible,  have  more  than  this  affirmation,  by  word  and  pen 
thus  shewed  me,  that  he  understands  all  these  several  languages, 
and  can  English  them,  word  for  word,  properly.  I  know  yourself, 


my  lord,  and  many  other  men  in  my  court,  can  try  and  prove  him 
in  many  of  them ;  but  where  shall  I  find  men  to  try  and  pose 
him  in  all  the  others,  that  are  so  unusual  and  scarce  known  2"  My 
lord  of  Canterbury,  being  somewhat  at  a  stand,  replied,  "  Sir, 
you  need  not  be  so  scrupulous,  but  be  confident  that  he  can  and 
doth  understand  all  of  them :"  and  then  looking  upon  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  to  see  what  he  could  say  for  himself  in  this  kind ;  who  all 
the  while  stood  silent  attending  the  end  and  upshot  of  the  king's 
demands ;  then  bowing  himself  to  the  ground  at  his  majesty's  feet, 
he  spake  in  this  manner  and  effect.  "  May  it  please  your  sacred 
majesty,  the  difficulty  you  in  your  great  wisdom  have  propounded 
so  judiciously,  to  have  a  present  proof  given  you,  that  I  understand 
all  these  several  twenty-four  languages,  and  can  translate  them 
into  English  or  Latin,  is  that  which  I  conceived  your  majesty 
would  put  me  upon,  when  you  should  see  that  which  you  have 
done  ;  and  to  that  intent  I  now  brought  with  me,  what  will  and 
may  fully  satisfy  your  majesty,  as  it  was  my  part  to  do,  and  to 
prepare  for  it  in  that  kind,  as  you  require."  "  Let  us  then  now 
see  it,"  said  the  king.  Now  you  are  to  know  that  this  proof-book 
Nicholas  Ferrar  had  of  purpose  concealed  it,  from  my  lord  of 
Canterbury,  not  shewing  it  him,  when  he  at  first  saw  the  rest  of 
them.  So  Nicholas  Ferrar  presently  stepped  to  the  box,  it  being 
covered  under  papers  at  the  bottom  of  it,  and  came  and  gave  it 
into  the  king's  hands.  The  king  opening  it,  and  smiling,  reading 
the  title  page  of  it,  which  was  this,  Sacrosanctum  Sancti  Johannis 
Evangelium,  in  totidem  Linguis  quot  sunt  Capita,  &c.  "  I  now 
see  I  shall  be  fully  contented ;"  and  so  turning  the  book  all  over, 
leaf  by  leaf,  and  perusing  it,  seeing  each  chapter  interpreted  in 
each  language,  word  for  word  with  English  or  Latin,  he  called 
my  lord  of  Canterbury  to  the  table,  who  all  this  while  stood 
somewhat  in  doubt  what  this  proof  would  be ;  "  Lo  !  here  is  an 
ample  proof  and  manifestation,  wittily  contrived  ;  and  I  am  fully 
satisfied  in  all  things.  He  could  never  have  done  this,  but  that 
he  is  a  master  of  them  all.  And  I  am  the  more  glad  I  raised  the 
doubt ;  but  much  more  that  he  hath  thus  undeniably  made  a  full 
proof  of  his  rare  abilities  in  every  kind.  What  say  you  to  it,  my 
lord?"  Who  replied,  it  was  far  beyond  what  he  should  IIUM- 
thought  of ;  and  was  right  glad  to  see  it.  So  many  questions 
were  asked  and  answered  to  the  king's  good  liking.  Tlu-  kin«r 
turning  to  the  rest  of  the  lords,  who  also  took  the  book  and  \\«T<- 


admiring  at  it,  and  spake  of  it  in  no  small  way  of  commendation, 
said,  "  We  have  spent  part  of  our  Maimday  Thursday  to  good 
purpose,  have  we  not,  my  lords,  think  your1  They  all  replied 
they  had  seen  those  good  things  and  rarities,  that  they  never  did 
before,  nor  should  see  the  like  they  believed  again  for  the  future. 
"  It  is  very  rightly  said,"  said  the  king.  So  looking  upon  Nicho- 
las Ferrar  he  willed  him,  that  he  should  go  the  next  morning  to 
Richmond,  and  carry  the  prince  the  book  made  for  hiui.  "  And 
after  the  holiday,"  said  he,  "  return  to  my  Lord  of  Canterbury ; 
and  then  you  shall  know  my  good  approbation  of  yourself  and 
all  you  have  done  ;  and  he  shall  signify  to  you  my  will  and  plea- 
sure, what  I  will  have  you  to  do,  and  where  you  are  to  go." 

So  dismissing  him  with  a  cheerful  royal  look,  the  king  said  to 
my  lord  of  Canterbury,  "  Alas  !  what  pity  is  it,  that  this  youth 
hath  not  his  speech,  altogether  so  ready  as  his  pen,  and  great 
understanding  is."  For  the  king  had  observed,  that  sometimes 
at  the  first  bringing  out  his  words,  he  would  make  a  small  pause  ; 
but  once  having  begun,  he  spake  readily  and  roundly,  as  other 
men  did.  "  Sir,"  said  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  "  I  conceive  that 
small  impediment  in  his  tongue  hath  been  very  happy  for  him." 
"How  can  you,  my  lord,  make  that  good?"  "  Sir,"  said  he, 
"  out  of  doubt,  the  small  defect  in  that  one  tongue  hath  gained, 
by  the  directions  of  that  learned  and  wise  uncle  of  his,  that 
directed  him  to  the  study  of  all  these  languages,  (as  finding  his 
great  abilities  of  wit,  memory,  and  industry,)  the  attaining  of 
them,  and  producing  these  and  the  like  rare  works,  that  you  see, 
done  by  him  to  admiration.  So  oftentimes  God,  in  his  great 
wisdom  and  love,  turns  those  things,  we  account  our  prejudice, 
to  our  greatest  happiness,  if  with  pleasure  and  chearfulness  we 
undergo  them,  and  to  his  own  further  glory.  So  that  neither  he 
nor  his  parents  have  cause  to  grieve  at  that  small  defect  he  hath 
in  his  one  tongue,  that  by  it  hath  gained  so  many  more,  that 
make  him  more  eminent,  than  that  one  could  have  done.  For 
certainly,  sir,  so  many  other  abilities  that  are  united  in  the  young 
man,  had  taken  and  put  him  upon  some  other  studies,  than  this 
of  languages,  if  this  small  imperfection  had  not  accompanied  it : 
and  instead  of  one  mother  tongue,  he  hath  gained  twenty-four ; 
a  full  recompence  I  take  it  to  be."  "  Well,"  said  the  king,  "  you 
have  somewhat  to  the  purpose,  my  lord."  Then  said  my  lord  of 
Holland,  "  He  should  do  well  to  carry  always  in  his  mouth  some 
small  pebble  stones,  that  would  (help)  him  much."  "  Nay,  nay," 


said  the  king,  "  I  have  tried  that 5,  but  it  helps  not.  I  will  tell 
him  the  best  and  surest  way  is  to  take  good  deliberation  at  first, 
and  not  to  be  too  sudden  in  speech.  And  let  him  also  learn  to 
sing,  that  will  do  well."  Then  said  one  of  the  lords  to  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  "  Do  you  not  learn  to  sing,  and  music  also  ?"  He  replied 
he  did.  So  humble  reverence  done,  Nicholas  Ferrar  going 
away,  my  lord  of  Canterbury  stepped  to  Nicholas  Ferrar  and 
told  him,  he  must  not  fail  to  come  to  Lambeth,  and  call 
for  his  letter  in  the  morning,  for  bishop  Duppa,  the  prince's 

This  was  done  next  morning ;  and  so  in  a  coach  with  four 
horses,  Nicholas  Ferrar  went  to  Richmond,  with  some  other  com- 
pany of  his  friends.  Coming  to  Richmond,  the  bishop's  secretary 
acquainted  his  lord,  of  a  letter  sent  to  him  by  the  lord  of  Canter- 
bury. The  bishop  was  then  with  the  prince,  who  coming  from 
him,  Nicholas  Ferrar  delivered  him  the  letter.  The  contents 
read,  he  imbraced  Nicholas  Ferrar,  who  kneeled  down  to  crave 
his  blessing,  and  kiss  his  hands.  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  called  for 
to  come  in  to  the  prince,  who  gave  him  his  hand  to  kiss.  He 
presented  the  book  unto  him.  The  prince  hastily  opened  it,  say- 
ing, "  Here's  a  gallant  outside :"  gave  it  then  to  the  bishop :  he 
read  the  title-page  and  frontis-piece.  Then  the  prince  took  it, 
and  turning  it  all  over,  leaf  by  leaf,  said,  "  Better  and  better." 
The  courtiers  that  stood  about  him,  demanded  how  he  liked  that 
rare  piece.  "  Well,  well,  very,"  said  he.  "  It  pleaseth  me  exceed- 
ingly ;  and  I  wish  daily  to  read  in  it."  So  many  questions  were 
asked  and  answered.  And  the  little  duke  of  York,  having  also 
seen  the  book,  and  fine  pictures  in  it,  came  to  Nicholas  Ferrar, 
and  said  unto  him,  "  Will  you  not  make  me  also  such  another 

5  /  have  tried  that.]  The  king  here  alludes  to  the  imperfections  of  his  own 
utterance  :  respecting  which  an  interesting  circumstance  is  recorded  by  sir 
Philip  Warwick.  He  is  speaking  of  a  critical  season;  the  three  days  of 
Charles's  appearance  on  his  trial  before  the  regicides. 

"  The  king's  deportment  was  very  majestic  and  steady ;  and  though  his 
tongue  usually  hesitated  yet  it  was  free  at  this  time ;  for  he  was  never  dis- 
composed in  mind." — Memoirs,  p.  339. 

His  elder  brother,  prince  Henry,  had  suffered  under  a  similar  imperfection. 

"  His  speech,"  says  sir  Charles  Cornwallis,  treasurer  of  his  household, 
"  was  slow  and  somewhat  impedimented.  .  .  .  Oftentimes  he  would  say  of 
himself,  that  he  had  the  most  unserviceahle  tongue  of  any  man  living."— Dis- 
course of  the  most  illustrious  prince  Henry,  &c.  Harleian  Miscellany,  vol.  iv. 
p.  339,  40. 


fine  book  ?  I  pray  you  do  it."  Nicholas  Ferrar  replied,  his  grace 
should  not  fail  to  have  one  made  for  him  also.  But  said  the 
duke,  "  How  long  will  it  be  before  I  have  it?"  "  With  all  good 
speed,"  said  Nicholas  Ferrar.  "  But  how  long  time  will  that  be  ? 
I  pray  tell  the  gentle-women  at  Gidding,  I  will  heartily  thank 
them,  if  they  will  dispatch  it."  (For  he  had  heard  Nicholas 
Ferrar  tell  the  prince,  who  questioned  with  him,  who  bound  the 
book  so  finely,  and  made  it  so  neatly  and  stately,  and  had  laid  on 
all  the  pictures  so  curiously ;  that  it  was  done  by  the  art  and 
hands  of  his  kins- women  at  Gidding.)  All  the  courtiers  standing 
by,  heartily  laughed  to  see  the  duke's  earnestness,  who  would 
have  no  nay ;  but  a  promise  speedily  to  have  one  made  for  him 6, 
like  his  brother's.  The  prince  at  last  went  to  dinner,  expressing 
much  joy  at  his  book. 

The  bishop  took  Nicholas  Ferrar  by  the  hand,  and  with  great 
demonstration  of  favour  led  him  into  a  room,  where  divers  young 
lords  were,  the  duke  of  Buckingham  and  others,  who  sitting  down 
to  dinner,  the  bishop  placed  Nicholas  Ferrar  by  the  table  at  his 
side.  The  bishop  demanded  many  questions  at  table  concerning 
Gidding,  to  which  he  received  satisfaction ;  saying,  my  lord  of 
Canterbury's  letters  had  informed  him  of  what  had  passed  before 
the  king  at  White  Hall ;  and  of  the  rare  pieces  which  were 
shewed  the  king,  whereof  he  said  he  hoped  one  day  to  have  the 
happiness  to  see  them ;  and  said,  "  This  present  given  the  prince 
was  very  acceptable,  and  he  made  no  question  but  the  prince  would 
receive  not  only  much  pleasure  in  it,  but  great  good  by  it  in  every 

After  dinner  ended,  and  other  courtiers  come  to  talk  with 
Nicholas  Ferrar,  the  bishop  departed  the  room,  and  not  long 
after  came  in  again ;  took  Nicholas  Ferrar  by  the  hand,  and  car- 
ried him  into  a  room,  where  the  prince  was,  the  duke,  and  divers 
court  ladies  looking  upon  the  book.  The  bishop  after  a  while 
told  the  prince  what  books  were  presented  to  the  king  his  father, 
at  White  Hall.  The  prince  demanded  to  see  them  also :  but  the 
bishop  said  they  were  left  there.  "  Ah,"  said  he,  "I  would  you 
had  brought  them,  that  I  might  also  have  seen  those  rare  things." 
So  after  many  questions  demanded  and  answered,  it  growing  late, 
Nicholas  Ferrar  craved  leave  to  depart;  and  humbly  bowing 

6  One  made  for  him.']  In  the  margin  it  is  added,  "  The  book  which  was 
made  and  printed  for  the  duke  never  had  opportunity  to  be  presented  to  his 
grace.  It  is  yet  still  at  Gidding." 


himself  to  the  prince,  the  prince  rose  up,  and  came  towards  him, 
and  moving  his  hat,  the  bishop  standing  by  him,  said,  u  I  am 
much  beholden  to  you,  for  the  jewel  you  have  given  rne,  and  for 
the  contrivement  of  it ;  and  to  the  Gidding  gentlewomen,  that 
have  taken  so  much  pains  about  it,  to  make  it  so  curious  a  piece." 
Then  putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  he  pulled  out  a  handful  of 
twenty  shillings  pieces  of  gold,  saying  (Nicholas  Ferrar  stepping 
back),  "  Nay,  I  do  not  give  you  this  as  any  reward  in  recompence 
of  your  book,  for  I  esteem  it  every  way  above  much  gold  ;  and 
prize  it  at  a  far  greater  rate.  Only  you  shall  take  this  as  a  pre- 
sent testimony  of  my  acceptance  of  it,  and  my  esteem  of  you.  I 
shall  study  how  I  may  in  the  future  let  all  know  how  much  I 
deem  of  your  worth,  and  the  book  :"  and  so  gave  him  his  handful 
of  gold.  And  so  Nicholas  Ferrar  departing,  divers  courtiers 
would  needs  accompany  him  to  his  coach,  and  the  bishop  down 
stairs.  And  so,  with  great  demonstration  of  much  civility  they 
parted,  the  bishop  willing  his  secretary  to  accompany  him  to  the 

Saturday  morning  repair  was  made  to  the  bishop  of  Canterbury, 
to  let  him  know  what  had  passed  at  Richmond ;  for  so  he  had 
given  order  ;  who  said  he  much  longed  to  know  what  entertain- 
ment was  given  to  the  book,  and  person.  He  liked  all  well  that 
passed,  and  said  he  was  right  glad,  that  things  went  as  he  hoped ; 
and  should  acquaint  the  king  with  all.  Then  taking  Nicholas 
Ferrar's  father  aside,  he  said,  "  Let  your  care  now  cease  for  your 
hopeful  son,  or  for  his  future  preferment,  or  estate,  or  present 
maintenance.  God  hath  so  inclined  the  king's  heart,  and  his 
liking  to  your  son,  and  the  gifts  God  hath  indued  him  with  ;  :md 
having  been  informed  of  his  virtuous,  pious  education,  and  singular 
industry  and  Christian  deportment,  and  of  his  sober  inclination, 
that  he  will  take  him  from  you  into  his  own  protection  and  car--. 
and  make  him  his  scholar  and  servant ;  and  hath  given  me  order, 
that  after  the  holidays  being  past,  I  should  send  him  to  Oxford  ; 
and  that  there  he  shall  be  maintained  in  all  things  needful  for 
him  at  the  king's  proper  charge;  and  shall  not  (need)  what  he 
can  desire,  to  further  him  in  the  prosecution  of  these  works  he 
hath  begun  in  matter  of  lan^ua^es  :  and  what  help  of  books,  or 
h»-ads,  or  hands  he  shall  require,  he  shall  not  be  unfurnished  with  ; 
for  the  king  would  have  this  work  of  the  New  Te>tament.  in 
t \\enty-fnur  lan^uaiM'-.  t<»  be  accomplished  by  his  care  andas>i>t 
ance  ;  and  to  have  the  help  of  all  the  learned  men  that  can 


had,  to  that  end.  Assure  yourself  he  shall  want  nothing.  In  a 
word  the  king  is  greatly  in  love  with  him :  and  you  will,  and 
have  cause  to  bless  and  praise  God  for  such  a  son."  So  John 
Ferrar  being  ravished  with  joy,  in  all  humble  manner  gave  thanks 
to  my  lord's  grace.  And  they  returning  to  Nicholas  Ferrar,  my 
lord  embraced  him,  and  gave  him  his  benediction.  Nicholas 
Ferrar  kneeling  down,  took  the  bishop  by  the  hand,  and  kissed 
it.  He  took  him  up  in  his  arms,  and  laid  his  hand  to  his  cheek, 
and  earnestly  besought  God  Almighty  to  bless  him,  and  increase 
all  graces  in  him,  and  fit  him  every  day  more  and  more  for  an 
instrument  of  his  glory  here  upon  earth,  and  a  saint  in  heaven ; 
"  which,"  said  he,  "  is  the  only  happiness  that  can  be  desired, 
and  ought  to  be  our  chief  end  in  all  our  actions.  God  bless  you  ! 
God  bless  you  !  I  have  told  your  father,  what  is  to  be  done  for 
you,  after  the  holidays.  God  will  provide  for  you,  better  than 
your  father  can: — God  bless  you!  and  keep  you!"  So  they 
parted  from  his  grace. 

But  he  never  saw  him  more  !  for  within  a  few  days  after 7, 
Nicholas  Ferrar  fell  ill :  and  on  Easter  day  he  was  desirous, 
being  next  morning  (having  found  himself  not  well  the  day 
before)  to  receive  the  communion  at  Paul's,  whither  he  went 
early  in  the  morning,  and  communicated  ;  and  returning  home, 
had  little  appetite  to  his  dinner,  eating  little  or  nothing.  He 
went  yet  to  a  sermon  in  the  afternoon  ;  but  at  night  grew  some- 
what worse.  And  on  Monday  morning,  his  father  with  all  care 
and  diligence  went  to  a  learned  physician,  who  came  and  visited 
him,  and  gave  him  what  he  thought  fitting ;  but  he  grew  worse 
and  worse.  Then  was  another  physician  joined  to  the  first. 
They  consulted,  and  prescribed  things  for  him,  but  he  mended 
not;  but  with  great  patience  and  chearfulness  did  bear  his 
sickness,  and  was  very  comfortable  in  it  to  all  that  came  to  visit 
him,  wholly  referring  himself  to  God's  good  will  and  pleasure ; 
only  telling  his  friends,  and  the  bishop  of  Peterborough,  doctor 
Towers,  that  loved  him  dearly,  and  came  to  visit  him  twice  in 
that  short  time,  that  he  was  no  way  troubled  to  die,  and  to  go  to 
heaven,  where  he  knew  was  only  peace  and  quiet  and  joys  per- 
manent, whereas  all  things  in  the  world  were  but  trouble  and 
vexation :  and  death  must  be  the  end  of  all  men  ;  and  he  that 
went  soonest  to  heaven,  was  the  happiest  man.  The  bishop 

7  A  few  days  after.']  "  Easter-Eve."     Margin  of  the  manuscript. 


would  say,  when  he  went  away,  and  had  a  long  time  talked  with 
him,  that  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  better  prepared  to  die  than  he, 
and  was  a  true  child  of  God  :  and  could  comfort  himself  in  God, 
without  directions  from  him,  or  others  :  that  his  pious  education 
under  his  pious  uncle  of  blessed  memory,  his  old  and  dear  friend, 
was  now  shewed  forth  in  these  his  so  young  years,  that  they  had 
taken  mighty  root  downward,  and  in  his  soul,  and  now  sprang  up 
with  not  only  leaves  and  fair  blossoms,  but  with  good  and  ripe 
fruit  of  heavenly  matters.  It  joyed  his  heart  to  see  him  so  dis- 
posed to  God-ward,  and  to  so  willingly  leave  the  world,  and  the 
late  testimonies  of  worth,  that  he  had  received  from  the  b< 
the  land.  That  sure  he  was  too  good  longer  to  stay  here.  God 
would  take  him  to  heaven  ;  and  willed  his  father  to  prepare  for 
his  departure ;  and  to  take  it  with  all  thankfulness  to  God ; 
and  not  look  what  himself  he  might  think  had  here  lost  on 
earth,  but  to  that  crown  which  his  good  son,  by  the  mercies 
of  God,  and  merits  of  his  Saviour,  he  was  persuaded  would 
soon  enjoy  in  heaven.  "  He  is  too  good ;  he  is  too  good," 
said  he,  "to  live  longer  in  these  ill  approaching  times.  For 
there  is  much  fear  now  that  the  glory  of  church  and  state  is  at 
the  highest/1  For  then  tumults  began :  and  the  bishop  of 
Canterbury's  house  at  Lambeth 8,  was  one  night  assaulted  by  a 
rabble  of  lewd  people  ;  which  when  Nicholas  Ferrar  was  told  one 
morning,  as  he  lay  in  his  sick  bed,  "  Alas  !  alas  ! "  said  he,  "  God 
help  his  church,  and  poor  England !  I  now  fear  indeed,  what 
my  dear  uncle  said  before  he  died,  is  at  hand,  that  evil  days  were 
coming,  and  happy  were  they  that  went  to  heaven  before  they 
came.  Can  or  will  the  insolency  of  such  a  rabble  be  unpunished  ? 
It  is  high  time  that  supreme  authority  take  care  of  these  growing 
evils.  God  amend  all !  Truly,  truly,  it  troubles  me/'  And  wlu-n 
at  other  times  some  friend  would  say  to  him.  "  Good  cousin, 
are  you  not  grieved  to  leave  this  world ;  you  are  now  so  young, 
and  in  the  flower  of  your  youth  and  hopes  ?"  He  would  cheerfully 
answer,  "  No,  truly ;  I  leave  all  to  God's  good  will  and  pleasure, 
that  is  my  best  father,  and  knoweth  what  is  best  for  me.  Alas  !  I 
am  too  young  to  be  mine  own  judge,  what  is  best  for  me,  to  die 

8  At  Lambeth.']  In  the  church-warden's  accounts  of  the  parish  of  Lamlu-th 
in  this  year,  1640,  is  the  following  entry  : 

"  May  8th,  Paide  for  trayning  when  the  mutinie  was  in  Lambeth 

againest  the  archbishopp £1     o     <>." 


or  live ;  but  let  all  be,  as  God's  will  is.  If  I  live,  I  desire  it  may 
be  to  his  further  glory,  and  mine  own  soul's  good,  and  the 
comfort  and  service,  that  I  intend  to  be  to  my  father,  that  loves 
me  so  dearly,  and  in  his  old  age  to  be  his  servant.  If  I  die,  I 
hope  my  father  will  submit  all  to  God's  will  and  pleasure,  and 
rejoice  at  my  happiness  in  heaven,  where  by  the  merits  of  my 
blessed  Lord  and  Saviour,  I  know  I  shall  go  out  of  this  wretched 
life."  In  this  manner,  and  upon  the  visits  of  friends,  he  would 
discourse ;  and  the  bishop  came  to  him  two  days  before  he 
died,  and  found  him  most  cheerful  to  die,  and  to  be  with  God,  as 
he  would  say  to  him  ;  who  gave  him  absolution,  and  with  many 
tears  departed,  saying  to  his  father,  "  God  give  you  consolation ; 
and  prepare  yourself  to  part  with  your  good  son.  He  will,  in  a 
few  hours,  I  think,  go  to  a  better  world  :  for  he  is  no  way  for 
this,  that  I  see,  by  his  body  and  by  his  soul.  Be  of  good  comfort ; 
you  give  him  but  again  to  him,  that  gave  him  you  for  a  season." 
And  in  two  days  after,  God  took  him  away ;  who  died  praying 
and  calling  upon  God,  "  Lord  Jesus  receive  my  soul !  Lord 
receive  it!"  Amen. 

This  following  EPITAPH  will  more  at  large  inform  the  reader 
concerning  Nicholas  Ferrar  junior,  his  life  and  death,  briefly  thus 
expressed  by  a  friend  of  his,  Mr.  Mark  Frank,  once  fellow  of 
Pembroke  Hall  in  Cambridge. 


quisquis  es 

f  vel  sortis  humanae  "| 

quern  <      vel  elusse  spei      >  miseret, 

[_  vel  ereptse  virtutis  J 
Siste  te  paulum  ad  hoc  lachrymarum  monumentum, 

Sepulchrum  Nicolai 
generosse  Ferrarorum  families  hseredis ; 

piissimi  illius  Nicolai, 

quern  ipse  orbis  admiratur 

tanquam  unicum  integree  virtutis  domicilium, 

Charissimi  nepotis : 
Londini,  si  patriam  quseris,  oriundi, 
Geddingce  Parva,  juxta  Venantodunum,  educati. 

Juvenis  nimirum 
qui,  inter  privatas  illas  solitudines, 

Stupenda  sua  indole  actus 
Ipsum  sibi  Academiam  habuit. 


Qui  ad  vicesimam  tertiam  linguara 
vix  tutorem  habuit,  vix  indiguit, 

vix  annos  petiit ; 
Et  tamen  annorum  numerum  linguis  duabiis 

superavit : 
tngenio  quam  annis  major. 

iGrammatica,  Necessitati, 
Historia,  Otio, 
Philosophia,  Studio,      I   f  .. 
Mathematica,  Voluptati,  ' 
Musica,  Pietati, 
Theologia,  Praxi, 


eleganti,  admiranda  potius  industria 

in  sacris  concinnandis  Harmon iis 

(quibus  ne  verbum  aut  superesse 

aut  deesse  Evangelistis  ostenditur) 

Regi  et  Aulae  cognitus 
Et  doctrinae  simul  et  religionis  specimen  dedit. 

f  Precibua  "I 
Qui  <     Jejuniis    >  crebris, 


f  Precibus  "1 
li  <     Jejuniis    > 
I    Vigiliis    J 

Abstiiientia  perpetua 

vel  a  primo  decennio  Deo  inserviit 

Familiae  suae  et  exemplum,  et  solatium  pietatis ; 

summae  erga  parentes  obedientiae, 

singularis  erga  amicos  amicitiae, 

eximiae  erga  omnes  humanitatis, 

profusae  erga  pauperes  benignitatis, 

Verbis,  Veste,  Vita,  sobrius,  modestus,  humilimus, 

C  ParentumVota   1 

Qui  in  omnibus  \  Amicorum  Spem  f  longe  post  se  reliquit. 
*•  Omnium  Fidem  ^ 

Nee  hie  stetit ; 

dum  majora  adhuc  anhelans 

nullum  studiis  suis  statuerat 

nisi  Universae  Naturae  terminum. 

Sed  Natura  praepropere  terminum  posuit 

ne  deesset  tandem  velocissimo  ingenio 

quod  evolveret. 

Libentissimi  hie  assensit 

ut  mens,  nondum  satiata  scientiis 

inveniret  in  Deo  quod  in  terris  non  potuit. 

Inde  est 

Amicorum  dolori,  reipublicae  literariae  damno, 
Spei  humanse  confusioni,  gloriae  tamen  suap 

quod  hinc  abiit 
vel  ad  Doctorum  vel  Virginum  Chorum, 



Regis  Carol!  XVI0. 
.Etatis  s\i3d  XXI0. 

Christ!  MDCXL 

Die  Maii  XIX0. 

There  was  found  amongst  other  papers  in  his  study  this  follow- 
ing; in  this  manner,  that  all  might  be  printed  in  one  book 
together,  at  one  view  to  be  seen,  in  two  pages  of  the  book,  as  it 
opened,  twenty-five  on  one  side,  twenty-five  on  the  other. 

Novum  Domini  Nostri  Jesu  Christ! 



1.  Hebraica.  26.  Anglica. 

2.  Syriaca.  27.  Saxonica. 

3.  Aj-abica.  28.  Italica. 

4.  Chaldaica.  29.  Gallica. 

5.  ^Ethiopica.  30.  Hispanica. 

6.  Samaritanica.  31.  Belgica. 

7.  Armenica.  32.  Gothica. 

8.  Cophtica.  33.  Vandalica. 

9.  Sclavonica.  34.  Estonica. 

10.  Moscovitica.  35.  Prutenica. 

11.  Grseca.  36.  Jazigica. 

12.  Latina.  37.  Illyrica. 

13.  Carabro-Britannica.  38.  Epirotica. 

14.  Hibernica.  39.  Persica. 

15.  Monica.  40.  Georgiana. 

16.  Hungarica.  41.  Turcica. 

17.  Cantabrica.  42.  Tartarica. 

18.  Cauchica.  43.  Jacobitica. 

19.  Wallaccica.  44.  Indica  orientali. 

20.  Rhaetica.  45.  Japonica. 

21.  Islandica.  46.  Danica. 

22.  Swedica.  47.  Polonica. 

23.  Finennica.  48.  Bohemica. 

24.  Livonica.  49.  Lusatica. 

25.  Germanica.  50.  Indica  Occident,  vel  Americana. 

This  by  the  help  of  God  I  intend  to  effect:  and  also  to  translate  the 
Church  Catechism  into  these  languages;  so  likewise  the  117  psalm, 
"  Praise  the  Lord  all  ye  heathens :  praise  him  all  ye  nations,"  and  pre- 
sent them  to  the  king,  that  he  may  print  them,  and  send  them  to  all 
nations,  &c. 

VOL.   IV.  Jl 



The  whole  law  of  God,  as  it  is  delivered  in  the  five  books  of  Moses, 
methodically  distributed  into  three  great  classes,  moral,  ceremonial,  political. 
And  each  of  these  again  subdivided  into  several  heads  as  the  variety  of 
matter  requires ;  wherein  each  particular  subject  dispersedly  related  in  the 
forenamed  books,  is  reduced  to  the  proper  head  and  place  whereunto  it 
belongeth.  Containing  in  all  three  hundred  thirty-three  heads  :  also  every 
head  of  the  political  law  is  reduced  to  that  precept  of  the  moral  law,  to  which 
it  properly  belongs ;  likewise  there  are  sundry  treatises,  shewing  in  what, 
and  how,  divers  of  the  ceremonial  laws  were  shadows  and  types  of  the 
Messiah  that  was  to  come.  And  also  in  what  Adam,  Abel,  Noah,  Abram, 
Isaac,  Joseph,  Moses,  Aaron,  Joshua,  Gideon,  Jephtha,  Samson,  David, 
Solomon  and  his  Temple,  Elisha,  Job,  Daniel,  Jonah,  the  pillar  fire,  the  Red 
Sea,  the  rock,  and  manna,  were  all  figures  of  our  Lord  and  blessed  Saviour 
J.  Christ. 

With  an  harmony  of  all  the  prophets,  foretelling  the  birth,  life,  and  death 
of  Jesus  Christ  that  was  to  come  ;  to  confirm  the  Christian  and  convince  the 
Jew :  together  with  a  discourse  of  the  twelve  stones  in  Aaron's  pectoral,  their 
several  virtues,  &c. 

As  also  an  harmonical  parallel  between  the  types  of  the  O.  Testament, 
and  the  four  Evangelists'  relations  concerning  our  dear  Lord  and  Saviour, 
respectively  prefigured  by  the  holy  prophets,  and  other  sacred  writers. 
Moreover  there  are  divers  treatises  showing  how,  and  in  what  manner,  times 
and  places,  the  several  promises  and  threatenings,  foretold  by  Moses,  did 
accordingly  befal  the  Jews  :  with  the  fulfilling  also  of  our  Saviour's  prophecy 
in  the  destruction  of  their  city  and  temple,  and  the  desolation  of  the  land  of 
Jewry  :  with  the  miseries  which  the  Jews  have  sustained  under  many  nations, 
and  in  particular  here  in  England,  France,  Spain,  Germany,  &c.  and  their 
strange  dispositions,  and  God's  judgment  on  them  to  this  day. 

All  to  testify  the  truth  of  the  Divine  Oracles. 

This  work  is  also  set  forth  with  abundance  of  pictures,  the  better  to  express 
the  stories  and  contents  of  it. 

This  precedent  work,  called  the  Seventh  piece,  was  also  contrived  in 
Nicholas  Ferrar's  lifetime,  and  a  draught  of  it  made,  though  not  altogether  9 
with  the  additions  and  annexations  to  it :  but  was  after  his  death  contrived 
fully,  as  in  the  manner  before  set  down  :  and  made  for  the  prince's  use,  to 
be  presented  to  him,  by  the  advice  of  some  judicious  and  learned  friends, 
that  held  it  a  work  worthy  of  his  acceptance,  and  might  be  both  of  pleasure 
and  contentment,  and  useful  to  him  in  many  kinds. 

9  Though  not  altogether.']  "  But  in  his  lifetime,  he  gave  one  in  this  kind  to 
the  bishop  of  Canterbury,  containing  only  the  first  part  of  the  whole  Law  of 
God.  This  the  bishop  sent  to  the  university  Library  of  Oxford,  where 
there  it  is  to  be  now  seen,  bound  up,  and  so  done  by  the  hands  of  the 
Virgins  of  (Jiddinir.  in  green  velvet,  fairly  bound  and  gilt."  Marginal  note 
in  the  MS. 


It  so  happened  that  in  the  year  1 642  the  troubles  in  this  land 
began  to  grow  to  height ;  and  the  king  and  prince  were  forced 
by  the  disorders  at  London  to  repair  to  York.  And  the  king 
lodging  with  the  prince  and  some  other  nobility  at  Huntingdon 
one  night,  'the  next  day  afternoon  it  was  his  gracious  pleasure  to 
come  and  honour  Little  Gidding  with  his  royal  presence,  the 
prince  attending  him,  the  palsgrave,  the  duke  of  Lennox,  and 
divers  other  nobles ;  and  where  his  majesty  staid  some  hours. 

First  he  went  to  view  the  chapel,  and  was  pleased  to  express 
his  good  liking  of  it,  saying,  it  was  a  fine  neat  thing.  "  But," 
said  he,  "  where  are  those  images,  &c.  so  much  talked  of?"  An- 
swer was  made,  "  Such  as  his  majesty  now  beheld  it,  was  all  that 
ever  was  there  seen,  or  in  it."  He  smiling  said  to  the  duke  and 
palsgrave,  "  I  knew  it  full  well,  that  never  any  were  in  it.  But 
what  will  not  malice  invent  ?"  One  lord  said,  "  It  was  affirmed 
to  me,  that  there  was  a  cross  in  one  of  the  windows  in  painted 
glass."  Answer  was  made,  "  Never  any,  but  that,  if  so  they 
meant  it,  that  was  upon  the  crown,  that  there  was  placed  upon 
the  lion's  head,  that  did,  in  the  west  window  at  the  entry  into  the 
church  over  the  door,  stand,  where  the  king's  arms l  were  placed 
in  painted  glass,  and  the  lion  that  supported  the  arms  had  on  the 
crown  he  wore  on  his  head  a  little  cross,  as  was  ever  used  in  the 
king's  arms  and  supporters :  and  this  was  all  the  crosses  that 
ever  were  seen  in  Gidding  church ;  or  any  other  painted  glass  or 
pictures."  The  king  looking  up  upon  it,  said,  "  What  strange 
reports  are  in  the  world  ! "  So  the  prince,  palsgrave  and  duke  all 
smiled  ;  and  the  duke  said,  "  Envy  was  quick-sighted.'1'' — "  Nay," 
said  the  palsgrave,  "  can  see  what  is  not" 

Then  the  king  was  pleased  to  go  into  the  house,  and  demanded 
where  the  great  book  was  that  he  had  heard  was  made  for 
Charles's  use.  It  was  soon  brought  unto  him ;  and  the  largeness 
and  weight  of  it  was  such  that  he  that  carried  it  seemed  to  be 
well  laden.  Which  the  duke  observing,  said,  "  Sir,  one  of  your 
strongest  guard  will  but  be  able  to  carry  this  book."  It  being 
laid  on  the  table  before  the  king,  it  was  told  him,  that  though  it 
were  then  fairly  bound  up  in  purple  velvet,  that  the  outside  was 
not  fully  finished,  as  it  should  be,  for  the  prince's  use  and  better 
liking.  "  Well,"  said  the  king,  "  it  is  very  well  done."  So  he 
opened  the  book,  the  prince  standing  at  the  table's  end,  and  the 
palsgrave  and  duke  on  each  side  of  the  king.  The  king  read  the 

1  King's  arms.']  See  note  in  vol.  iii.  p.  233. 
R    2 


title-page  and  frontispiece  all  over  very  deliberately:  and  well 
viewing  the  form  of  it,  and  how  adorned  with  a  stately  garnish  of 
pictures,  &c.  and  the  curiousness  of  the  writing  of  it,  said, 
"  Charles,  here  is  a  book  that  contains  excellent  things.  This 
will  make  you  both  wise  and  good."  Then  he  proceeded  to  turn 
it  over  leaf  by  leaf,  and  took  exact  notice  of  all  in  it :  and  it  being 
full  of  pictures  of  sundry  men's  cuts,  he  could  tell  the  palsgrave, 
who  seemed  also  to  be  knowing  in  that  kind  2,  that  this  and  this, 
and  that  and  that,  were  of  such  a  man's  graving  and  invention. 
The  prince  all  the  while  greatly  eyed  all  things,  and  seemed 
much  to  be  pleased  with  the  book.  The  king  having  spent  some 
hours  in  the  perusal  of  it,  and  demanding  many  questions, 
occasion  was,  concerning  the  contrivement  of  it,  having  received 
answers  to  all  he  demanded,  at  length  said,  "  It  was  only  a 
jewel  for  a  prince :  and  hoped  Charles  would  make  good  use  of 
it.  And  I  see  and  find  by  what  I  have  myself  received  for- 
merly from  this  good  house,  that  they  go  on  daily  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  these  excellent  pieces.  They  are  brave  employments  of 
their  time."  The  palsgrave  said  to  the  prince,  "  Sir,  your  father 
the  king  is  master  of  the  goodliest  ship  in  the  world ;  and  I  may 
now  say,  you  will  be  master  of  the  gallantest  greatest  book  in  the 
world.  For  I  never  saw  such  paper  before ;  and  believe  there  is 
no  book  of  this  largeness  to  be  seen  in  Christendom."  "  The 
paper  and  the  book  in  all  conditions,"  said  the  king,  "  I  believe 
is  not  to  be  matched.  Here  hath  also  in  this  book  not  wanted, 
you  see,  skill,  care,  nor  cost."  "  It  is  a  most  admirable  piece," 
replied  the  duke  of  Richmond.  So  the  king  closing  the  book, 
said,  "  Charles  this  is  yours."  He  replied,  "  But,  sir,  shall  I 
not  now  have  it  with  me?"  Reply  was  made  by  one  of  the 

"  Knowing  in  that  kind.']  "  It  is  a  trite  observation,  that  gunpowder  was 
discovered  by  a  monk,  and  printing  by  a  soldier.  It  is  an  additional  honour 
to  the  latter  profession  to  have  invented  mezzotinto.  .  .  .  Born  with  the  taste  of 
an  uncle,  whom  his  sword  was  not  fortunate  in  defending,  prince  Rupert  was 
fond  of  those  sciences  which  soften  and  adorn  a  hero's  private  hours ;  and  knew 
how  to  mix  them  with  his  minutes  of  amusement,  without  dedicating  his  life  to 
their  pursuit,  like  us,  who,  wanting  capacity  for  momentous  views,  make  serious 
study  of  what  is  only  the  transitory  occupation  of  a  genius.  Had  the  court 
of  the  first  Charles  been  peaceful,  how  agreeably  had  the  prince's  congenial 
prosperity  flattered  and  confirmed  the  inclination  of  his  uncle.  How  the 
muse  of  arts  would  have  repaid  the  patronage  of  the  monarch,  when  for  his 
first  artist  she  would  have  presented  him  with  his  nephew  /"—Horace 
Walpole's  Catalogue  of  Engravers,  &c.  edit.  1786.  p.  133-5. 


family,  "  If  it  please  your  highness,  the  book  is  not  on  the  out- 
side so  finished  as  it  is  intended  for  you  ;  but  shall  be,  with  all 
expedition,  done,  and  you  shall  have  it."  "  Well,"  said  the  king, 
"  you  must  content  yourself  for  a  while." 

The  palsgrave,  who  had  left  the  king  discoursing,  had  stepped 
into  the  other  room  by,  and  there  seen  the  poor  alms  widows 
rooms,  which  were  built  for  them.  He  then  comes  to  the  king, 
saying,  "  Sir,  you  shall,  if  you  please  to  go  with  me,  see  another 
good  thing,  that  will  like  you  well."  So  the  king  and  prince 
followed  him,  and  the  duke.  So  being  come  into  the  widows 
rooms,  which  were  handsomely  wainscotted,  and  four  beds  in 
them,  after  the  Dutch  manner  of  their  alms  houses,  all  along  the 
walls ;  the  room  being  rubbed,  and  cleanly  kept,  the  king  looking 
well  about  him,  and  upon  all  things  said,  "  Truly  this  is  worth 
the  sight.  I  did  not  think  to  have  seen  a  thing  in  this  kind, 
that  so  well  pleaseth  me.  God's  blessing  be  upon  the  founders 
of  it !  Time  was,"  speaking  to  the  palsgrave,  "  that  you  would 
have  thought  such  a  lodging  not  amiss."  "  Yea,  sir,"  said  he, 
"  and  happy  I  had  had  it  full  often."  So  some  questions  the 
king  asked  about  the  widows,  &c.  and  going  out  of  the  room 
into  a  long  arbour  in  the  garden,  the  duke  following  him,  he  put 
his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  took  out  of  it  five  pieces  in  gold 
saying  to  the  duke,  "  Let  these  be  given  to  the  poor  widows.  It 
is  all  I  have,  else  they  should  have  more ;"  (these  he  had  won 
the  night  before  of  the  palsgrave  at  cards  at  Huntingdon)  "  and 
will  them  to  pray  for  me." 

While  the  king  was  walking,  and  talking,  and  commending  the 
fine  and  pleasant  situation  of  the  house  upon  a  little  hill,  which 
it  stood  upon,  to  divers  about  him,  saying,  "  Gidding  is  a  happy 
place  in  many  respects  ;  I  am  glad  I  have  seen  it."  The  young 
lords  had  gone  into  the  buttery,  and  there  found  apple-pies  and 
cheese-cakes,  and  came  out  with  pieces  in  their  hands  into  the 
parlour,  to  the  prince,  and  merrily  said,  "  Sir,  will  your  highness 
taste  ;  it  is  a  good  apple-pye  as  ever  we  eat."  The  prince 
laughed  heartily  at  them  :  so  wine  was  brought.  The  king  came 
in,  saying,  "  It  grows  late  :  the  sun  is  going  down :  we  must 
away."  So  their  horses  were  brought  to  the  door.  The  king 
mounting,  those  of  the  family,  men  and  women,  all  kneeled  down, 
and  heartily  prayed  God  to  bless  and  defend  him  from  his  ene- 
mies ;  and  give  him  a  long  and  happy  reign.  He  lifting  up  his 
hand  to  his  hat,  replied,  "  Pray,  pray  for  my  speedy  and  safe 
return  again."  So  the  prince  also  took  horse,  and  away  they  went. 


And  as  the  king  rode  through  the  grounds,  he  espied  a  hare 
sitting,  and  then  called  to  the  duke  for  his  piece,  which  he  car- 
ried ;  and  as  he  sat  on  horse-back  killed  the  hare ;  but  not  so 
dead,  but  she  ran  a  little  way.  But  the  prince,  seeing  her  rise 
up,  skipped  off  his  horse,  and  ran  after  her  through  two  or  three 
furrows  of  water,  and  caught  her,  and  laughing  shewed  her  to  the 
king.  And  away  they  went :  but  it  was  late  before  they  got  to 
Stamford  that  night. 

I  had  forgot  to  relate,  that  the  king,  a  mile  before  he  came  at 
the  house,  seeing  it  stand  upon  a  hill,  demanded  of  sir  Capel 
Beedells3,  who  then  waited  upon  him,  and  sir  Richard  Stone,  the 
high  sheriff,  whom  he  knighted  the  evening  before,  when  he  came 
into  Huntingdon,  what  house  that  was  that  stood  so  pleasantly. 
They  told  him,  Little  Gidding.  "  Is  that  it  ?  I  must  go  and  visit 
it.  Doth  not  our  way  lie  beneath  it  ?"  They  said,  "  Aye.1' 
Those  of  the  family  of  Little  Gidding,  out  of  their  windows, 
seeing  the  king's  company  afar  off,  coming  that  way,  they  all 
went  down  the  hill,  to  the  end  of  the  lordship,  and  at  the  bridge 
attended  the  king's  coming  that  way,  as  most  desirous  to  see  him 
and  to  kiss  his  hands.  When  the  king  came  near  them,  he  asked 
sir  Capel  who  those  people  were  ?  He  said  the  Ferrars'  and 
Colletts'  family  that  dwelt  at  Gidding.  So  the  king  approaching 
foremost  of  all,  they  went  all  to  meet  him ;  and  kneeling  down 
prayed  God  to  bless  and  preserve  his  majesty,  and  keep  him  safe 
from  all  his  enemies'  malice.  The  king  gave  them  all,  as  they 
passed  by,  his  hand  to  kiss.  The  prince  seeing  that,  came  gal- 
loping up,  and  did  the  like.  Some  of  them  went  to  kiss  the 
palsgrave's  hand,  but  he  refused.  But  turning  to  the  duke,  and 
the  other  young  lords,  he  said,  "  These  ladies  will  not  so  soon  get 
up  the  hill  again.  Come,  let  us  take  them  up  behind  us."  And 
so  he  came  to  persuade  them.  But  they  excused  themselves,  and 
made  haste  up  the  hill.  The  king  rode  on  purpose  a  foot  pace 
up  the  hill,  talking  with  sir  Capel  and  Mr.  Hill,  and  demanding 
many  questions. 

And  this  is  what  then  happened  at  the  presenting  of  this  book, 
which  ever  since  hath  been  preserved  at  Gidding,  and  attends  the 
happy  hour  to  be  delivered  into  the  right  owner's  hand  ;  which 
God  Almighty  grant  in  his  due  time  ! 

Amen,  Amen,  Amen. 

3  Beedclls.']  Sir  Capel  Bedell,  or  Beedells  (of  Hamerton,  in  Huntingdon- 
shire, t\vo  miles  from  Little  Gidding)  was  created  a  baronet  in  1622.  He 
died  8.  p.  in  1663. 


Nicholas  Ferrar,  in  a  paper  found  in  his  study,  thus  writes 
in  it : — 

"  The  king  of  England  (he  would  say)  had  more  several  languages  spoken 
by  the  subjects  of  his  dominions  than  any  king  in  Christendom  :  and  there- 
fore deserved  to  have  a  Bible  of  many  languages,  above  other  princes. 

f '  There  are  twelve  spoken  in  his  dominions. 

"1.  English,  spoken  in  England,  and  a  good  part  of  Scotland:  those,  I 
mean,  that  lie  next  to  England.  It  is  chiefly  compounded  of  the  Saxon, 
French,  and  Latin. 

"  2.  Scottish,  spoken  more  northerly  in  Scotland.  It  retains  more  of  the 
old  Saxon,  and  is  not  mingled  with  so  many  French  words,  as  English  is. 
Bishop  Douglas  translated  Virgil  into  this  dialect. 

"  3.  Welsh,  spoken  in  Wales. 

"  4.  Cornish,  spoken  in  Cornwall.  It  is  a  dialect  of  the  Welsh,  but  very 

"5.  Irish,  spoken  in  Ireland. 

"6.  Scot- Irish,  a  dialect  of  Irish;  and  is  spoken  in  the  Hebrides,  islands 
lying  on  the  West  of  Scotland. 

"  7.  Hethyan.  Hethy  is  an  island  of  the  Orcades,  in  which  is  spoken  a 
language,  which  is  a  dialect  of  the  Gothish  or  Norwegian. 

"  8.  There  is  in  Pembrokeshire  in  Wales,  a  country  called  Little  Eng- 
land beyond  Wales.  They  use  a  language  compounded  of  the  Dutch  and 

"  9.  In  the  islands  of  Guernsey  and  Jersey  they  speak  a  corrupt  kind  of 
French,  somewhat  like  the  Walloon,  which  the  Belgee  qui  non  teutonizant 

"  10.  In  the  famous  Isle  of  Man  is  spoken  a  language  that  is  compounded 
of  Welsh,  Irish,  Norwegian,  but  most  Irish  words. 

"  This  island  deserves,  and  the  people  of  it,  a  perpetual  memorial,  for 
many  excellent  things  in  it :  which  I  cannot  but  thus  briefly  touch,  in  regard 
that  my  learned  and  pious  uncle  Nicholas  Ferrar,  of  blessed  memory,  who 
had  seen  many  parts  of  the  world,  would  highly  commend  it,  as  a  happy 
place  to  live  in.  For  he  would  say,  it  were  to  be  wished,  and  happy  it  were 
for  England,  that  the  same  manner  for  law  were  here  used,  being  a  speedy 
and  right  way  of  justice,  the  soul  of  a  kingdom,  &c.  That  there  were  no 
beggars  found  in  that  island  :  that  the  inhabitants  were  most  honest  and 
religious,  loving  their  pastors,  to  whom  they  use  much  reverence  and 
respect ;  they  frequenting  duly  divine  service,  without  division  in  the  church 
or  innovation  in  the  commonwealth.  They  detest  the  disorders,  as  well  civil 
as  ecclesiastical,  of  neighbour  nations.  And  the  women  of  this  country,  to 
their  no  small  commendation,  whenever  they  go  out  of  the  doors,  gird  them- 
selves about  with  that  winding-sheet,  that  they  purpose  to  be  buried  in,  to 
shew  themselves  perpetually  mindful  of  their  mortality.  O  rare  example 
to  all! 

"11.  The  languages  spoken  by  the  savages  in  the  Virginian 
plantation.  I  These  in  the 

"12.  That  other  kind  also  spoken  in  New  England  by  C  New  World." 
those  savages."  J 


Also  there  was  another  paper  that  named  all  the  mother  tongues,  with 
their  daughters,  which  as  yet  I  cannot  find :  but  hope  I  shall ;  and  then 
(will  it  be)  here  underneath  to  be  added.  Sir,  you  know  I  did  once  shew 
it  you  in  his  study,  with  the  other  works  before-mentioned,  and  these  that 

8.  EIGHTH  WORK  ;  prepared  but  not  begun.  Materials  only  prepared,  and 
a  model  drawn  of  it. 

Glory  be  to  God  on  High. 

The  New  Testament  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  in  twenty-six 
languages,  with  Arabick,  Syriac,  Greek,  all  interpreted,  word  for  word,  with 
Latin ;  likewise  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Samaritan,  Arabick,  Syriac  and  Greek,  all 
having  their  several  Latin  translations  lying  opposite  to  them ;  which  six 
languages  are  taken  out  of  that  most  rare  and  accomplished  Bible  of  the 
king  of  France,  lately  come  forth,  and  as  the  French  report,  at  the  expence 
of  very  many  thousand  pounds,  and  great  pains  taken  in  it,  and  no  few  years 
spent  to  finish  it.  All  these  twenty-six  languages  are  so  composed  and 
ordered,  that  at  one  view  they  may  be  seen  and  read,  with  much  ease  and 
pleasure  as  well  as  to  use  and  benefit.  The  several  twenty- six  languages  are 
those  that  follow : 

1.  Hebrew.  14.  English- Saxon. 

2.  Syriack.  15.  German. 

3.  Greek.  16.  Danish. 

4.  Arabick.  17.  Swedish. 

5.  Chaldee.  18.  Low  Dutch. 

6.  Samaritan.  19.  English. 

7.  ^Ethiopian.  20.  Welsh. 

8.  Sclavonian.  21.  Irish. 

9.  Hungarian.  22.  Latin. 

10.  Cantabrian.  23.  Italian. 

11.  Muscovian.  24.  Spanish. 

12.  Polonian.  25.  French. 

13.  Bohemian.  26.  Portugall. 

And  moreover  there  are  twelve  several  English  translations ;  twenty 
various  Latin  translations ;  three  Italian ;  three  Spanish ;  three  French ; 
three  High  Dutch;  and  three  Netherlands.  And  all  these4  also  so  placed, 

4  And  all  these.]  "  But  these  several  translations  are  since  resolved  to  be 
omitted,  and  in  the  place  and  stead  of  them,  some  other  thing  of  more  use 
and  consequence  there  placed,  and  more  suitable  to  this  work." 

"  Since  this  frontispiece  was  contrived,  and  the  model  of  the  work  framed, 
it  is  by  the  advice  and  counsel  of  second  thoughts  (determined)  that  in  the 
place  and  stead  of  the  twelve  several  English  translations,  the  twenty  various, 
&c.  there  shall  be  placed  now  either  a  Concordance  of  the  Four  Evangelists, 
according  to  that  first  pattern  you  have  seen  and  read,  being  the  first  work 
done  at  Gidding,  and  presented  to  the  king,  and  set  forth  with  pictures ;  or 
that  in  that  place  of  the  several  translations,  if  no  Concordance  be  there 


ordered,  and  contrived  that  the  eye  may  discern  them  at  one  time,  and 
peruse  them  all  with  great  content :  and  for  the  conclusion  of  the  work  there 
is  added  at  the  end  of  the  book,  that  of  doctor  Fulke,  intitled,  "  A  Defence 
of  the  sincere  and  true  translation  of  the  Holy  Scripture  in  the  English 
tongue,  against  the  manifold  cavils,  and  insolent  slanders  of  Gregory  Martin, 
one  of  the  translators  of  the  Rhemish  Bible  :"  and  theirs  and  ours  compared 
together  in  two  several  columns.  And  the  Lord's  Prayer  is  also  annexed  in 
three-score  several  languages.  Laus  Deo. 

Of  this  eighth  piece  the  model  and  form  was  contrived  to  be  as 
you  have  seen  on  the  foregoing  page  in  that  manner.  But  these 
sad  times  coming  on  a-main  gave  an  obstruction  to  the  proceed- 
ings and  attempt,  so  that  it  hath  lain  still  till  this  year  1 65 — . 
And  now  it  hath  so  fallen  out 5  that,  (to  the  honour  of  those 
worthy  learned  men,  that  have  by  their  great  care  and  diligence 
set  it  on  foot,)  the  printing  of  the  Holy  Bible  in  eight  several 
languages  is  designed  here  in  England ;  the  which  work  in  many 
respects  is  like  to  pass  that  Bible  both  of  the  king  of  Spain's, 
and  the  aforenamed  king  of  France's  :  in  which  regard  it  is  now 
thought  fitting  to  defer  this  model,  and  intended  work,  till  that 
our  Bible  be  finished.  And  then  by  the  good  blessing  of  God, 
and  the  help  of  some  of  those  active  hands,  that  are  yet  alive, 
who  were  instruments  of  the  other  many  precedent  works,  as  you 
have  heard,  this  may  in  a  good  hour  be  begun,  and  by  the 
help  of  God  and  good  friends  brought  into  light  and  finished. 
So  contriving  it  by  that  neat  way  of  pasting  upon  mighty  large 
paper,  provided  for  the  same  purpose,  without  which  it  cannot  be 
effected,  that  these  twenty-six  or  twenty-eight  several  languages 
may  be,  upon  the  opening  of  the  book,  all  seen  and  read  with 
much  profitableness  and  no  less  pleasure.  A  book  it  will  be  that 

placed,  then  doctor  Hammond's,  that  learned  man's,  Comments  lately 
printed,  shall  be  placed,  and  brought  into  this  book,  as  a  necessary  and  pro- 
fitable jewel,  to  be  interwoven  into  the  book,  as  the  model  drawn  doth  justly 
declare  to  the  eye.  Glory  be  to  God  on  high  :  Peace  on  earth  :  Good  will 
amongst  men.  Amen."  Marginal  note  in  the  MS. 

6  So  fallen  out  J]  The  printing  of  the  Polyglot,  an  illustrious  monument  of 
zeal  and  learning,  erected  to  the  glory  of  their  country  by  bishop  Walton, 
and  other  episcopal  divines,  in  times  of  great  distress  and  persecution,  began 
in  1653,  and  was  finished  in  1657.  The  first  printed  proposals  respecting  it 
were  issued  in  the  year  1652. 


hath  not  its  parallel  or  match  in  the  whole  world,  and  may  well 
become,  as  many  learned  men  say  that  have  seen  the  model  of  it, 
the  best  library  in  the  Christian  world,  and  a  jewel  not  misbe- 
seeming  the  greatest  potentate's  study.  God  Almighty  give  both 
means  and  heads  and  hands  to  effect  it :  to  whom  must  be  the 
glory,  praise  and  honour !  Amen,  Amen,  Amen c. 

c  Here  end  the  extracts  from  the  Lambeth  MS.  No.  251. 


MR.  JOHN  FERRAR,  author  of  the  old  MS.  frequently  referred 
to,  wrote  to  Ed.  Lenton,  Esq.  of  Notley,  enquiring  whether  a 
letter  from  him  formerly  written  to  Serjt.  Hetley,  was  not  the 
groundwork  of  a  libellous  pamphlet  *,  entitled,  The  Arminian 
Nunnery,  at  Little  Gidding  in  Huntingdonshire.  Mr.  Lenton's 
answer  and  vindication  of  himself,  as  follows,  is  dated  Oct.  27, 
the  year  not  specified,  but  it  was  1642  : 


If  your  messenger  had  staid  but  one  night  longer,  I  would  not 
have  delayed  my  answer  to  your  so  discrete  and  respectful  a 
letter ;  which  makes  me  wish  we  were  better  acquainted,  in 
hopes  to  confirm  your  good  and  charitable  opinion  of  me. 

Sir,  I  confess  I  should  much  degenerate  from  my  birth  (being 
a  gentleman),  my  breeding  (well  known  to  the  world),  and  the 
religion  I  profess ;  if  having,  upon  something  a  bold  visit,  been 
entertained  in  your  family  with  kind  and  civil  respects,  I  should 
requite  it  with  such  scorn  and  calumny  as  this  libellous  pamphlet 
seems  to  insinuate. 

Sir,  my  conceit  of  it  is,  that,  in  this  time  of  too  much  liberty 
(if  not  licentiousness)  of  the  press,  many  ballad-makers  and 
necessitous  persons  (it  may  be,  set  on  work  by  some  printers 
themselves,  to  promote  their  trade)  distil  their  barren  brains  to 
make  provision  for  their  empty  bellies,  by  publishing  such  novel- 
ties and  fictions  as  they  think  will  vent  best ;  and,  when  they  have 
spent  their  own  little  wit,  borrow  of  others  to  eke  it  out ;  and  so, 
enterlacing  some  shreds  of  their  own,  they  patch  up  a  penny 
pamphlet,  to  serve  for  their  morning's  draught. 

Of  this  strain  I  take  this  book  to  be.     The  ground  whereof 

1  Libellous  pamphlet.']  See  the  note  at  p.  208. 

252  APPENDIX : 

(you  doubt,  but  I  doubt  not)  was  the  letter  I  writt  to  Sir  Thomas 
Hettley  (many  years  since)  upon  his  request,  that,  in  my  passage 
from  him  to  my  lord  Montague's,  being  by  your  house,  I  would 
see  and  certify  what  I  could  in  so  short  a  stay,  touching  the 
various  reports  divulged  in  most  places  of  your  religious  rites  and 

To  which  my  true  relation  (which  I  am  sorry  and  marvel  how 
it  should  light  in  such  hucksters-hands)  the  pamphleteer,  by  his 
additions  and  subtractions,  interweaving  truth  with  falsehood  to 
purchase  some  credit  to  his  untruths,  hath  drawn  conclusions 
and  accusations  of  Arminianism  and  other  fopperies,  not  once 
mentioned  in  my  letter ;  but,  as  wisely  as  that  atheist,  who, 
to  prove  there  was  no  God,  vouched  one  end  of  a  verse 
where  David  in  his  psalms  saith,  There  is  no  God ;  and  left  out 
the  beginning  of  the  verse,  That  the  fool  hath  said  it  in  his 

By  this  time,  sir,  I  hope  you  see  I  am  so  far  from  being  the 
author,  infuser,  abettor  or  countenancer  of  this  fable,  that,  by  it 
I  take  myself  to  be  as  much  abused,  and  that  there  is  as  much 
aspersion  cast  upon  me  as  upon  your  family,  by  a  sly  and  cun- 
ning intimation  (my  letter  being  his  ground-work)  to  make  me 
thought  (by  such  as  know  me  not  well)  to  be  the  author  and 
divulger  of  his  lies  and  scandals,  which  (by  God^s  mercy)  my  soul 

Had  he  shewed  his  dislike  of  some  of  the  ceremonies,  &c.  (as  I 
myself  did,  by  way  of  argument)  I  should  not  (nor,  I  think,  you) 
so  much  have  kindled  at  it.  But  so  to  add  to,  subtract,  pervert, 
and  falsify  my  letter,  I  think  the  author  (if  haply  he  may  be  found 
out)  deserves  to  be  censured  as  a  counterfeiter  of  false  letters 
and  tokens,  and  as  a  contriver  and  publisher  of  false  news, 
according  to  the  law  of  the  land  and  the  statutes  in  like  case 

His  ignorance  (which  yet  excuseth  not  a  toto,  if  a  tanto)  I 
think  will  be  his  best  plea.  For,  it  should  seem,  he  is  no  great 
clerk.  Which  I  observe  even  almost  at  the  beginning  of  his  story, 
\\  h» -re  he  tells  a  tale  as  of  a  third  person,  and  in  the  same  clause, 
within  two  or  three  lines  after,  ineptly  changeth  it  into  the  first 
person;  without  any  apt  transition.  A  solecism  which  a  in<  an 
scholar  would  hardly  have  fallen  into. 

To  have  put  the  true  copy  of  my  letter  in  print,  without  my 
privity,  had  been  a  great  inhumanity.  But,  to  pervert  it  with  so 


many  falsifications,  and  laying  his  inhumanities  on  me,  I  think, 
none  but  a  licentious  libeller,  or  a  beggarly  ballad-maker,  would 
have  offered. 

I  was  so  conscious  to  myself  of  intending  no  wrong  to  your 
family  in  my  relation,  that  I  thought  to  have  sent  your  brother 
[N.  F .]  a  copy  thereof ;  and  had  done  it,  if  want  of  opportunity 
in  his  lifetime,  and  his  death  afterwards,  had  not  prevented  me. 
And  I  would  now  send  you  a  true  copy  thereof,  if  you  had  not 
wrote  to  me,  that  you  had  it  presently  after  my  writing  it.  And 
sith  I  have  been  at  your  house  long  since  (for  it  is  about  seven 
years  past,  as  I  take  it,  that  I  writ  the  relation)  I  presume  you 
would  have  expostulated  the  matter  with  me,  if  you  had  taken 
any  just  exception  or  distaste  at  it.  But  therein  you  might  well 
perceive,  that  I  endeavoured  not  to  detract  any  thing  from  you, 
or  to  conceal  even  the  civility  or  humility  I  found,  or  what  I  had 
heard  or  believed  of  your  works  of  charity. 

Thus,  sir,  even  the  very  same  day  I  received  your's  (for  there 
needs  no  long  time  to  answer  a  matter  of  fact  with  matter  of 
truth  ;  and  being  full  of  indignation  to  be  thus  traduced,  whereof 
I  longed  instantly  to  discharge  myself)  I  scribled  over  this  candid 
and  ingenuous  answer.  And  I  am  now  troubled  that  you  gave 
me  no  direction  for  the  address  thereof  to  you ;  which,  when  haply 
you  shall  receive,  I  leave  to  your  own  discretion,  to  make  what 
use  thereof  you  please  ;  presuming  that  you  will  therein  have  the 
like  respects  to  me  which  herein  I  have  had  to  you.  So  leaving 
us  to  the  guidance  of  our  good  God,  I  subscribe,  as  you  to  me, 
your  friend  and  servant, 


Notley,  near  Thame^  Oct.  27. 

To  the  worshipful  my  worthily  esteemed  friend 
John  Ferrar,  Esq.  at  his  house  in  Little 
Gidding  in  Huntingdonshire. 

The  copy  of  my  letter  to  sir  Thomas  Hetley,  kt.  and  ser- 
jeant  at  law,  upon  his  request  to  certify  as  I  found. 

Good  Mr.  Serjeant5. 

I  can  give  you  but  a  short  account  of  my  not  two  hours  stay 
at  the  reputed  (at  least  reported)  nunnery  at  Gidding  ;  and  yet 

254  APPENDIX  : 

must  leave  out  three  parts  of  our  passages,  as  fitter  for  a  relation 
than  a  letter. 

I  came  thither  after  ten  ;  and  found  a  fair  house,  fairly  seated  ; 
to  which  I  passed  through  a  fine  grove  and  sweet  walks,  letticed 
and  gardened  on  both  sides. 

Their  livelihood  500J.  per  annum,  as  my  lord  Montague  *  told 
me ;  one  of  his  mansion  houses  being  within  two  or  three  miles 
of  them. 

A  man-servant  brought  me  into  a  fair  spacious  parlour. 
Whither,  soon  after,  came  to  me  the  old  gentlewoman"^  second 
son  [Nicholas  Ferrar ;]  a  batchelor,  of  a  plain  presence,  but  of 
able  speech  and  parts.  Who,  after  I  had  (as  well  as  in  such 
case  I  could)  deprecated  any  ill  conceit  of  me,  for  so  unusual 
and  bold  a  visit,  entertained  me  very  civilly  and  with  much 
humility.  Yet  said,  I  was  the  first  who  ever  came  to  them  in 
that  kind ;  though  not  the  first  whom  they  had  heard  of,  who 
determined  to  come.  After  deprecations  and  some  compliments, 
he  said,  I  should  see  his  mother,  if  I  pleased.  I  shewing  my 
desire,  he  went  up  into  a  chamber,  and  presently  returned  with 
these ;  namely,  his  mother,  a  tall,  straight,  clear-complexioned, 
grave  matron,  of  eighty  years  of  age  :  his  elder  brother,  married 
(but  whether  a  widower,  I  asked  not),  a  short,  black- complexioned 
man  :  his  apparel  and  hair  so  fashioned  as  made  him  shew  priest- 
like  :  and  his  sister,  married  to  one  Mr.  Colet :  by  whom  she 
hath  14  or  15  children :  all  which  are  in  the  house  (which  I  saw 
not  yet).  And  of  these,  and  two  or  three  maid-servants,  the 
family  consists. 

I  saluted  the  mother  and  daughter,  not  like  nuns,  but  as  we 
use  to  salute  other  women.  And  (after  we  were  all  seated 
circular- wise,  and  my  deprecations  renewed  to  the  other  three b) 
I  desired  that,  to  their  favour  of  entertaining  me,  they  would  add 
the  giving  of  me  a  free  liberty  to  speak  ingenuously  what  I  con- 
ceived of  any  thing  I  should  see  or  have  heard  of,  without  any 
distaste  to  them. 

\Vhich  being  granted ;  I  first  told  them,  what  I  had  heard  of 
the  nuns  of  Gidding.  Of  two,  watching  and  praying  all  night. 
Of  their  canonical  hours.  Of  their  crosses  on  the  outside  and 
inside  of  their  chapel.  Of  an  altar  there,  richly  docked  with 
plate,  tapestry,  and  tapers.  Of  their  adorations  and  cr« •ninil.-i- 

2  Lord  Montague']  Edward,  first  lord  Montagu  of  Bonghton. 
/      b  Mr.  John  Ferrar,  Mr.  Nicholas  Ferrar,  and  Mr.  John  Collet. 


tions  at  their  entering  therein.  Which,  I  objected,  might  savor 
of  superstition  and  popery. 

Here  the  younger  son,  the  mouth  for  them  all,  cut  me  off ; 
and,  to  this  last,  answered  first,  with  a  protestation,  that  he  did 
as  verily  believe  the  pope  to  be  antichrist  as  any  article  of  his 
faith.  Wherewith  I  was  satisfied  and  silenced,  touching  that 

For  the  nunnery ;  he  said,  That  the  name  of  nuns  was  odious. 
But  the  truth  (from  whence  that  untrue  report  might  arise)  was, 
that  two  of  his  nieces  had  lived,  one,  thirty ;  the  other,  thirty- 
two  years,  virgins  ;  and  so  resolved  to  continue  (as  he  hoped  they 
would)  the  better  to  give  themselves  to  fasting  and  prayer  :  but 
had  made  no  vows 3. 

For  the  canonical  hours,  he  said,  they  usually  prayed  six  times 
a  day.  As  I  remember,  twice  a  day  publicly,  in  the  chapel ;  and 
four  times  more,  privately,  in  the  house.  In  the  chapel,  after 
the  order  of  the  book  of  common-prayer  :  in  their  house,  parti- 
cular prayers  for  a  private  family. 

I  said,  if  they  spent  so  much  time  in  praying,  they  would 
leave  little  for  preaching  or  for  their  weekly  callings.  For  the 
one  I  vouched  the  text,  He  that  turneth  away  his  ear  from 

3  No  vows.~\  "Yet  nothing  is  so  sound,  but  in  time  it  will  run  into  corrup- 
tion. For  I  must  not  hold  it  in,  that  some  persons  in  Little  Gidding  had  run 
into  excess,  and  incurred  offence,  if  the  bishop  had  not  broken  the  snare, 
which  they  were  preparing  for  their  own  feet.  For  after  he  had  spoken  well 
of  the  family  in  the  pulpit,  and  privately  to  divers,  some  of  them  could  not 
see  when  they  were  well,  but  aspired  to  be  transcendants  above  their  measure. 
For  two  daughters  of  the  stock  came  to  the  bishop,  and  offered  themselves 
to  be  veiled  virgins,  to  take  upon  them  the  vow  of  perpetual  chastity,  with 
the  solemnity  of  the  episcopal  blessing,  and  ratification :  whom  he  admo- 
nished very  fatherly,  that  they  knew  not  what  they  went  about :  that  they 
had  no  promise  to  confirm  that  grace  unto  them ;  that  this  readiness,  which 
they  had  in  the  present,  should  be  in  their  will,  without  repentance  to  their 
life's  end.  Let  the  younger  women  marry,  was  the  best  advice,  that  they 
might  not  be  led  into  temptation.  And  that  they  might  not  forget  what  he 
taught  them,  he  drew  up  his  judgment  in  three  sheets  of  paper,  and  sent  it 
to  them  home,  that  they  might  dress  themselves  by  that  glass,  and  learn  not 
to  think  of  human  nature,  above  that  which  it  is,  a  sea  of  flowings  and 
ebbings,  and  of  all  manner  of  inconstancy.  The  direction  of  God  was  in 
this  counsel ;  for  one  of  the  gentlewomen  afterwards  took  a  liking  to  a  good 
husband,  and  was  well  bestowed."  Backet's  Life  of  Archbishop  Williams, 
part  ii.  p.  52. 

256  APPENDIX : 

hearing  the  law,  even  his  prayer  shall  be  abomination c.  For  the 
other,  Six  days  shalt  thou  labour,  &c. 

To  the  one  he  answered,  that  a  neighbour  minister  of  another 
parish  caine  on  Sunday-mornings,  and  preached ;  and  sometimes 
they  went  to  his  parish.  To  the  other,  that  their  calling  was  to 
serve  God ;  which  he  took  to  be  the  best. 

I  replied,  that  for  men  in  health  and  of  active  bodies  and 
parts,  it  were  a  tempting  of  God  to  quit  our  callings,  and  wholly 
to  betake  ourselves  to  fasting,  prayer,  and  a  contemplative  life, 
which  by  some  is  thought  little  better  than  a  serious  kind  of  idle- 
ness :  not  to  term  it  (as  St.  Austin  terms  moral  virtues  without 
Christ)  splendida  peccata. 

He  enjoined,  that  they  had  found  divers  perplexities,  distrac- 
tions, and  almost  utter  ruin,  in  their  callings.  But  (if  others 
knew  what  comfort  and  content  God  ministered  to  them  since 
their  sequestration,  and  with  what  incredible  improvements  of 
their  livelihood)  it  might  encourage  others  to  [take]  the  like 

I  said  that  such  an  imitation  might  be  of  dangerous  conse- 
quence. And  that  if  any,  in  good  case  before,  should  fall  into 
poverty  [when  entered  into  it,]  few  afterwards  would  follow  the 

For  their  night-watchings,  and  their  rising  at  four  of  the  clock 
in  the  morning  (which  I  thought  was  [too]  much  for  one  of  four- 
score years,  and  for  children).  To  the  one  he  said,  it  was  not 
[too]  much ;  since  they  always  went  to  bed  at  seven  of  the  clock 
in  the  evening.  For  the  other,  he  confessed,  there  were  every 
night  two  (alternatim)  continued  all  night  in  their  devotions,  who 
went  not  to  bed  until  the  rest  arose. 

For  the  crosses  he  made  the  usual  answer,  that  they  were  not 
ashamed  of  that  badge  of  the  Christian  profession  which  the  first 
propugners  of  the  faith  bare  in  their  banners,  and  which  we,  in 
our  church  discipline,  retain  to  this  day. 

For  their  chapel ;  that  it  was  now  near  chapel  time  (for 
eleven  is  the  hour  in  the  forenoon),  and  that  I  might,  if  I 
pleased,  accompany  them  thither,  and  so  satisfy  myself  best  of 
what  I  had  heard  concerning  that.  Which  afterwards  I  willingly 

c  Prov.  xxviii.  9. 


In  the  mean  time  I  told  them,  I  perceived  all  was  not  true 
which  I  had  heard  of  the  place.  For  I  could  see  no  such  inscrip  - 
tion  on  the  frontispiece  of  the  house,  containing  a  kind  of  invita- 
tion of  such  as  were  willing  to  learn  of  them,  or  would  teach  them 
better.  Which,  I  said,  was  some  encouragement  for  me  to  come 
(as  one  desirous  to  learn,  not  teach),  and  might  be  some  excuse 
of  my  audacity,  if  they  would  be  pleased  so  to  accept  it.  But  he, 
barring  me  from  farther  compliments,  said,  the  ground  of  that 
report  hung  over  my  head. 

We  sitting  by  the  chimney,  [I  saw]  in  the  chimney  piece  was 
a  manuscript  tableture ;  which,  after  I  had  read,  I  craved  leave 
to  beg  a  copy  of  (so  they  would  not  take  me  for  too  bold  a 
beggar).  He  forthwith  took  it  down,  and  commanded  it  to  be 
presently  transcribed  and  given  to  me.  I  offered  the  writer 
money,  for  his  deserved  pains :  which  was  refused.  And  the 
master  [N.  F.]  conjured  me  not  to  offer  it  a  second  time.  And 
thereupon  [also  he]  made  it  his  [farther]  suit  [to  me],  not  to 
offer  any  thing  to  any  in  that  house,  at  my  parting,  or  otherwise. 
The  words  of  the  protestation  are  as  folio weth  d. 

The  matter  of  this  declaration  being  in  such  general  terms,  I 
said,  I  thought  it  without  exception.  But  I  prayed  leave  to  except 
a  circumstance,  namely,  the  superscription :  it  being  the  proper 
character  of  the  Jesuits  in  every  book  and  exhibit  of  theirs.  He 
said  it  was  that  auspicious  name,  [Jesus]  worthy  to  be  the  alpha 
and  omega  of  all  our  doings ;  and  that  we  are  commanded  to 
write  such  things  on  the  posts  of  our  houses  and  upon  our  gates. 
(Deut.  vi.  9.)  I  told  him,  I  was  far  from  excepting  against  that 
sacred,  saving  name  of  Jesus :  only  I  could  have  wished  it  written 
at  length,  or  any  other  way,  to  have  differenced  it  from  that 
which  the  papists  only  use,  but  no  Protestants.  And,  that  the 
text  he  mentioned,  was  in  the  Old  Testament  (where  there  was 
no  mention  of  Jesus,  but  of  Jehovah)  to  my  remembrance.  But 

We  passed  from  this  towards  the  chapel,  being  about  forty 
paces  from  the  house ;  yet  [were]  staid  a  little  (as  with  a  paren- 
thesis) by  a  glass  of  sack,  a  sugar-cake,  and  a  fine  napkin,  brought 
by  a  mannerly  maid.  Which  refreshed  my  memory  to  tell  them 
what  my  lord  bishop  of  Lincoln  [Williams]  said  of  them.  Wherein 
yet  I  brake  no  laws  of  humanity  or  hospitality  (though  spoken  at 
his  table.)  For  he  said  nothing  but  what  they  wished  and  were 

d  "IHS 

"  He  who  by  reproof,"  &c.  see  p,  206  of  these  Memoirs. 

VOL.   IV.  S 

258  APPENDIX  : 

glad  to  hear ;  [all]  being  but  the  relation  of  the  grave  and  dis- 
creet answers  (as  my  lord  himself  termed  them)  of  the  old  gentle- 
woman to  some  of  his  lordship's  expostulations. 

To  that  part  concerning  the  young  deacon,  whom  his  lordship 
had  heard  of,  to  come  from  Cambridge  to  officiate  in  their  chapel ; 
he  (innuendo  even  the  younger  son,  who  only  was  the  speaker) 
said,  that  himself  was  the  young  deacon  intended.  That  he  is 
two  and  forty  years  old ;  was  fellow  of  an  house  in  Cambridge  ; 
and  hath  taken  the  orders  of  a  deacon. — To  say  nothing  of  his 
having  been  at  Rome  (whereof  I  could  have  excepted  no  more 
against  him  than  he  might  against  me).  For  having  been  so  long 
in  the  labour  of  the  chapel,  it  is  now  high  time  we  were  at  the 
church — 

At  the  entering  thereof  he  made  a  low  obeysance ;  a  few  paces 
farther,  a  lower ;  coming  to  the  half-pace  (which  was  at  the  east 
end,  where  the  tables  stood)  he  bowed  to  the  ground,  if  not  pros- 
trated himself :  then  went  up  into  a  fair,  large  reading  place  (a 
preaching  place  being  of  the  same  proportion,  right  over  against 
it).  The  mother,  with  all  her  train  (which  were  her  daughter 
and  daughter's  daughters)  had  a  fair  island  seat. 

He  placed  me  above,  upon  the  half-pace,  with  two  fair  window- 
cushions  of  green  velvet  before  me.  Over  against  me  was  such 
another  seat,  so  suited ;  but  no  body  to  sit  in  it.  The  daugli 
four  sons  kneeled  all  the  while  on  the  edge  of  the  half-pace  ;  all 
in  black  gowns.  (And  they  went  to  church  in  round  Monmouth 
caps,  as  my  man  said ;  for  I  looked  not  back)  the  rest  all  in 
black,  save  one  of  the  daughter's  daughters,  who  was  in  a  fryer's 
grey  gown. 

We  being  thus  placed,  the  deacon  (for  so  I  must  now  call  him) 
with  a  very  loud  and  distinct  voice,  began  with  the  Litany,  read 
divers  prayers  and  collects  in  the  book  of  Common-prayer,  and 
Athanasius  his  creed,  and  concluded  with  The  Peace  of  God. 

All  ended,  the  mother,  with  all  her  company,  attended  my 
coming  down.  But  her  son  (the  deacon)  told  her,  I  would  stay 
awhile  to  view  the  chapel.  So  with  all  their  civil  salutation 
wards  me  (which  I  returned  them  afar  off;  for  I  durst  not  come 
nearer,  lest  I  should  have  light  upon  one  of  the  virgins ;  not 
knowing  whether  they  would  have  taken  a  kiss 4  in  good  part  or 
no)  they  departed  home. 

4  A  K«.]  Then,  and  long  afterwards,  a  common  salutation.     On  its  use 
at  an  earlier  time,  see  vol.  i.  p.  533. 


Now  (none  but  the  deacon  and  I  left)  I  observed  the  chapel,  in 
general,  to  be  fairly  and  sweetly  adorned  with  herbs  and  flowers, 
natural  in  some  places,  and  artificial  upon  every  pillar  along  both 
sides  the  chapel  (such  as  are  in  cathedral  churches)  with  tapers 
(I  mean  great  virgin- wax-candles)  on  every  pillar. 

The  half-pace  at  the  upper  end  (for  there  was  no  other  division 
betwixt  the  body  of  the  chapel  and  the  east  part)  was  all  covered 
with  tapestry.  And,  upon  that  half-pace,  stood  the  communion- 
table (not  altar- wise,  as  reported6)  with  a  rich  carpet  hanging 
very  large  upon  the  half-pace ;  and  some  plate,  as  a  chalice,  and 
candlesticks,  with  wax  candles. 

By  the  preaching  place  stood  the  font;  the  leg,  laver,  and 
cover,  all  of  brass,  cut  and  carved.  The  cover  had  a  cross  erected. 
The  laver  was  of  the  bigness  of  a  barber's  bason. 

And  this  is  all  which  I  had  leisure  to  observe  in  the  chapel ; 
save  that  I  asked  for  the  organs?  And  he  told  me,  they  were 
not  there ;  but  that  they  had  a  pair  in  their  house. 

I  asked  also,  what  use  they  made  of  so  many  tapers  ?  He  said, 
to  give  them  light,  when  they  could  not  see  without  them. 

Then  (having,  as  I  told  you  before,  obtained  leave  to  say  what 
I  listed)  I  asked  him,  to  whom  he  made  all  those  courtesies  ?  He 
said,  to  God.  I  asked  if  the  papists  made  any  other  answer  for 
their  bowing  to  images  and  crucifixes?  yet  we  account  them 
idolaters  for  so  doing.  He  said,  we  have  no  such  warrant  for  the 
one.  But  for  the  other  we  have  a  precept,  to  do  all  things  with 
decency  and  order ;  as  he  took  this  to  be. 

I  demanded,  then,  why  he  used  not  the  same  solemnity  in  his 
service  at  his  house  ?  And,  whether  he  thought  the  chapel  more 
holy  than  his  house?  He  said,  No.  But  that  God  was  more 

e  [Formerly  the  church  puritans  generally  set  the  communion  table  either 
in  the  body  of  the  church,  or  (if  in  the  chancel,  yet)  with  the  two  ends  point- 
ing east  and  west  (not  north  and  south).  And  Williams,  now  bishop  of  Lin- 
coln (in  opposition  to  archbishop  Laud  and  others,  who  set  it  altar-wise) 
insisted  much  upon  their  standing  so.  And,  in  obedience  to  bishop  Williams 
(who  was  his  diocesan)  no  doubt  it  was,  that  Mr.  Ferrar  set  his  communion 
table,  after  the  puritan  manner,  with  the  two  ends  pointing  east  and  west. 
Though,  I  guess,  it  stood  otherwise  'till  this  year  1635.  Be  that  as  it  will, 
this  passage  may  serve  to  shew,  that  bishop  Williams  was,  even  then,  hatching 
his  "  Holy  Table,  Name,  and  Thing"  (printed  [anonymously']  in  1637)  and 
setting  others  to  oppose  the  archbishop's  usage. — Though  the  bishop's  own 
practice,  in  his  own  chapel  at  Buckden,  both  before  and  after,  was  other- 
wise. F.  P.] 

s  2 

260  APPENDIX  : 

immediately  present,  while  we  were  worshipping  him  in  the 

I  replied,  that  I  thought  God  was  as  present  at  Paul's  cross  as 
at  Paul's  church ;  and  at  the  preaching-place  at  Whitehall,  and 
'spital  sermons,  as  elsewhere.  For  where  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  his  name,  God  is  in  the  midst  of  them.  And 
yet  in  those  places  (no  not  in  the  body  of  the  church,  though 
there  be  a  sermon  and  prayers  there)  we  do  not  use  this  threefold 
reverence,  nor  any  low  bowing,  unless  in  the  chancel  towards  the 
east,  where  an  altar,  or  some  crucifix,  is? — He  answered  me 
something  of  the  trinary  number,  which  I  did  not  understand, 
nor  well  hear. 

This,  as  all  other  our  discourse,  being  ended  with  mildness  and 
moderation  (on  his  part  at  least)  I  said  farther,  since  their  devo- 
tions (from  which  they  would  be  loth  to  be  diverted  or  inter- 
rupted, as  in  the  said  protestation  appears)  are  more  strict  and 
regular  than  usual,  if  in  their  consciences  they  were  persuaded 
that  all  their  formalities  and  ceremonies  were  but  adiaphora 
(things  indifferent)  I  then  thought  they  were  as  wise  as  serpents 
(in  the  Scripture  sense)  in  complying  so  with  the  church  ceremo- 
nies, .that  they  might  the  safelier  hold  on  their  course  without 
exception.  For  in  this  comportment,  I  thought,  authority  would 
not  except  against  them,  unless  for  exceeding  the  cathedrals; 
who  make  but  one  reverence,  whereas  they  make  three.  He 
said,  I  spake  like  one  who  seemed  to  have  had  experience  in  the 

It  being  now  near  twelve  o'clock,  we  ended  our  discourse,  and 
I  called  for  my  horses;  hoping  that  thereupon  he  would  have 
invited  me  to  stay  dinner :  not  that  I  care  for  his  or  any  man's 
meat  (for  you  had  given  me  a  dinner  in  too  good  a  breakfast)  but 
that  I  might  have  gained  more  time  to  have  seen  and  observed 
more  of  their  fashions ;  and  whether  the  virgins  and  younger  sort 
would  have  mingled  with  us?  with  divers  other  things,  which 
such  a  dinner-time  would  have  best  have  ministered  matter  for. 
But,  instead  of  making  me  stay,  he  helped  me  in  calling  for  my 
horses ;  accompanying  me  even  to  my  stirrup.  And  so,  I  not 
returning  into  the  house,  as  we  friendly  met,  we  friendly  part*  <1. 

Many  more  questions  I  thought  on,  wlu-n  it  was  too  late ;  and 
yet  you  see  I  was  not  idle  for  the  short  time  I  stayed.  I  asked 
him,  of  their  monthly  receiving  the  sacrament?  And,  whether 
their  servants  (when  they  received)  were  attended  by  their  mas- 


ters  and  mistresses,  and  suffered  not  so  much  as  to  lay  and  take 
away  their  own  trenchers,  as  I  had  heard  ?  whereat  he  smiled,  as 
at  a  frivolous  fable,  and  said,  the  only  difference  [then]  from  other 
clays  was,  that  the  servants  (the  day  they  received)  sat  at  the 
same  table  with  them. 

I  heard  also  that  they  never  roast  any  meat ;  only  boil  and 
bake  (but  not  in  paste),  that  their  servants  may  not  be  much 
hindered  from  their  devotions.  And  that  they  have  but  one 
horse  amongst  them  all.  But  of  these  I  made  no  mention. 

They  are  extraordinary  well  reported  of  by  their  neighbours, 
viz.  that  they  are  very  liberal  to  the  poor ;  at  great  cost  in  pre- 
paring physic  and  surgery,  for  the  sick  and  sore  (whom  they  visit 
often),  and  that  some  sixty  or  eighty  poor  people  they  task  with 
catechetical  questions :  which  when  they  come  and  make  answer 
to,  they  are  rewarded  with  money  and  their  dinner.  By  means 
of  which  reward  of  meat  and  money,  the  poor  catechumens  learn 
their  lessons  well ;  and  so  their  bodies  and  souls  too  are  well 

I  find  them  full  of  humanity  and  humility.  And  others  speak 
as  much  of  their  charity :  which  I  also  verily  believe.  And 
therefore  am  far  from  censuring  them :  of  whom  I  think  much 
better  than  of  myself.  My  opposing  of  sonie  of  their  opinions 
and  practices  as  you  see  in  this  my  relation  (wherein  T  may  have 
varied  in  some  circumstances,  but  nothing  from  the  substance) 
was  only  by  way  of  argument,  and  for  my  own  better  information, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  observe  how  wiser  men  will  judge  of  them,  or 
imitate  their  course  of  life. 

I  intended  not  a  third  part  of  this  when  I  began,  as  you  may 
see  by  my  first  lines.  But  one  thing  drawing  on  another,  I  have 
now  left  out  little  or  nothing  to  my  remembrance ;  saving  what  I 
thought  fitting  in  good  manners,  upon  my  first  affront,  to  make 
way  for  my  welcome,  and  ad  captandam  benevolentiam ;  which  is 
not  worth  the  repeating,  if  I  could  ;  and  I  am  something  better 
at  acting  such  a  part,  than  at  relating  it :  though  good  at  neither. 

After  this  long  and  tedious  relation,  J  must  now  make  but 
short  thanks  to  yourself  and  my  lady  for  my  long  and  kind  wel- 
come ;  wherein  my  wife  joins  with  me ;  praying  your  remembering 
our  loving  respects  to  our  kind  nieces  (hoping  the  good  scholars 
at  Westminster  are  well).  And  so  I  leave  you  to  the  grace  of 
God ;  and  am  the  same,  your  loving  friend, 


262  APPENDIX  : 

HAVING  been  desired  by  a  very  worthy  and  judicious  friend  to 
give  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Ferraris  devotional  compositions,  I  here 
add  one  prayer,  which  was  used  regularly  the  first  Sunday  in 
every  month,  and  one  which  was  drawn  up  on  the  particular  occa- 
sion of  the  dangerous  illness  of  his  dear  friend  Mr.  Geo.  Herbert. 

The  established  rule  of  the  family  was  to  receive  the  sacra- 
ment the  first  Sunday  of  every  month  in  the  parish  church,  and 
on  those  days  in  their  devotions  at  home  to  add  a  general  form  of 
thanksgiving  for  dangers  escaped,  and  mercies  received ;  of  which 
the  following  is  a  copy  something  shortened. 

"  We  come,  0  Lord,  most  mighty  God,  and  merciful  Father, 
to  offer  unto  thy  .Divine  Majesty,  the  monthly  tribute  of  that 
duty,  which  indeed  we  are  continually  bound  to  perform,  the  ten- 
der of  our  most  humble  and  hearty  thanks  for  those  inestimable 
benefits  which  we,  unworthy  sinners,  have  from  time  to  time  in 
abundant  manner  received  of  thy  goodness,  and  do  even  unto  this 
hour  enjoy.  Yet  by  our  ingratitude  and  abuse  of  them,  we  have 
deserved  not  only  the  deprivation  of  these  good  things,  but  that 
by  a  rigorous  chastisement  thou  shouldest  make  us  an  example  of 
thine  impartial  justice.  For  there  is  none,  O  Lord,  to  whom 
thou  hast  given  more  abundance  or  greater  variety  of  the  com- 
forts of  this  life.  If  we  should  go  about  to  tell  them,  they  are 
more  in  number  than  the  sand  ;  there  are  none  upon  whom  thou 
hast  more  freely  conferred  them :  yet  ought  we  to  confess  that 
we  are  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  thy  favours.  And  as  in  regard 
of  our  unworthiness,  so  likewise  in  respect  of  the  lowliness  of  our 
condition  whence  thou  hast  raised  us,  of  the  dangers  wherewith 
we  have  been  environed,  of  the  difficulties  wherewith  we  have 
been  enthralled,  we  must  needs  cry  out,  Great  are  the  wondrous 
works  which  thou  hast  done  :  for  on  every  side  we  hear  the  voice 
of  the  beholders,  Blessed  are  the  people  who  are  in  such  a  case. 
Wonderful  indeed  hath  been  thy  goodness  towards  us :  while  the 
wise  have  been  disappointed  in  their  counsels,  while  the  full  of 
friends  have  been  left  desolate,  while  the  men  whose  hands  \ 
mighty  have  found  nothing,  while  the  strong  on  every  side  have 
fallen,  we,  O  Lord,  have  been  by  thy  power  raised  up,  by  thine 
arm  have  we  been  strengthened,  guided  by  thy  counsels,  and 
relieved  by  the  favour  of  thy  mercies.  And  that  we  might  know 
that  it  was  thy  doing,  by  those  ways  and  means  which  we  thought 
not  of,  thou  hast  brought  us  into  a  wealthy  place,  and  to  ti 
many  comforts  which  we  now  enjoy.  And  although  we  have 


not  any  way  deserved  thy  favours,  yet  is  thy  patience  extended 
towards  us.  We  must  needs  acknowledge,  0  Lord,  that  the 
liberality  of  thy  hand  is  extended  even  beyond  the  largeness  of 
our  own  hearts.  And  yet,  O  Lord,  all  this  is  nothing  in  compa- 
rison of  that  which  we  may  farther  enjoy.  By  how  much  the 
things  of  heaven  do  surpass  those  of  the  earth,  by  how  much 
everlasting  happiness  is  more  worth  than  the  transitory  and  feeble 
pleasures  of  this  life,  by  so  much  more  surpassing  are  those 
graces  and  favours  with  which  thou  hast  furnished  us  for  the 
knowledge  of  thy  heavenly  will,  and  for  the  practices  of  those 
duties,  of  which  our  conversation  in  this  world,  is  capable. 

u  Thou  hast  given  to  us  a  freedom  from  all  other  affairs,  that 
we  may  without  distraction  attend  thy  service.  That  holy  gospel 
which  came  down  from  heaven,  which  things  the  angels  desire  to 
look  into,  is  by  thy  goodness,  continually  open  to  our  view :  the 
sweet  music  thereof  is  continually  sounding  in  our  ears :  hea- 
venly songs  are  by  thy  mercy  put  into  our  mouths,  and  our 
tongues  and  lips  made  daily  instruments  of  pouring  forth  thy 
praise.  This,  Lord,  is  the  work,  and  this  the  pleasure  of  the 
angels  in  heaven  :  and  dost  thou  vouchsafe  to  make  us  partakers 
of  so  high  an  happiness  ?  The  knowledge  of  thee,  and  of  thy 
Son  is  everlasting  life.  Thy  service  is  perfect  freedom :  how 
happy  then  are  we,  that  thou  dost  constantly  retain  us  in  the 
daily  exercise  thereof! 

"  With  these  favours,  and  mercies,  0  Lord,  we  ought  to  ac- 
knowledge ourselves  most  happy  :  we  ought  to  be  joyful  in  the 
midst  of  adversities,  in  the  depth  of  affliction,  and  in  the  height 
of  distress.  How  much  more  then  are  we  bound  to  thee  for  thy 
merciful  continuance  of  those  blessings  which  we  enjoy  !  we  are 
bound,  0  Lord,  but  unable  to  perform  this  duty  as  we  ought ; 
yet  since  thou  hast  invited  us,  we  now  come  to  the  performance 
thereof ;  to  render  to  thy  divine  majesty  the  most  humble  and 
hearty  acknowledgment  of  our  own  demerits,  and  thy  infinite 
goodness.  We  beseech  thee  that  thou  wilt  enlarge  our  hearts, 
and  open  our  mouths,  that  our  prayers  may  be  set  forth  in  thy 
sight  as  incense,  and  the  lifting  up  of  our  hands  as  a  sacrifice 
unto  thee,  for  the  only  merits  of  thy  dear  Son,  in  whose  name 
and  mediation  we  offer  up  both  our  prayers  and  praises,  and 
together  with  them  ourselves,  beseeching  thee  that  they  being 
sanctified  by  thy  grace,  may  be  every  way  made  acceptable  to 
thee.  Amen." 


On  particular  occurrences,  Mr.  Ferrar  composed  more  parti- 
cular forms,  to  be  used  occasionally,  of  which  the  following  is  an 

"On  Friday "  (date  not  mentioned)  "  Mr.  Mapletoft  brought 
us  word  that  Mr.  Herbert  was  said  to  be  past  hope  of  recovery, 
which  was  very  grievous  news  to  us,  and  so  much  the  more  so, 
being  altogether  unexpected.  We  presently  therefore  made 
our  public  supplication  for  his  health  in  the  words,  and  manner 
following : 

"  O  most  mighty  God,  and  merciful  Father,  we  most  humbly 
beseech  thee,  if  it  be  thy  good  pleasure,  to  continue  to  us  that 
singular  benefit  which  thou  hast  given  us  in  the  friendship  of  thy 
servant,  our  dear  brother,  who  now  lieth  on  the  bed  of  sickness. 
Let  him  abide  with  us  yet  awhile,  for  the  furtherance  of  our 
faith.  We  have  indeed  deserved  by  our  ingratitude,  not  only  the 
loss  of  him,  but  whatever  other  opportunities  thou  hast  given  us 
for  the  attainment  of  our  salvation.  We  do  not  deserve  to  be  heard 
in  our  supplications ;  but  thy  mercies  are  above  all  thy  works. 
In  consideration  whereof  we  prostrate  ourselves  in  all  humble 
earnestness,  beseeching  thee,  if  so  it  may  seem  good  to  thy 
Divine  Majesty,  that  thou  wilt  hear  us  in  this,  who  hast  heard  us 
in  all  the  rest,  and  that  thou  wilt  bring  him  back  again  from  the 
gates  of  death  :  that  thou  wilt  yet  a  while  spare  him,  that  he 
may  h've  to  thy  honour  and  our  comfort.  Lord,  thou  hast  willed 
that  our  delights  should  be  in  the  saints  on  earth,  and  in  such  as 
excel  in  virtue  :  how  then  should  we  not  be  afflicted,  and  mourn 
when  thou  takest  them  away  from  us  !  Thou  hast  made  him  a 
great  help,  and  furtherance  of  the  best  things  amongst  us,  how 
then  can  we  but  esteem  the  loss  of  him,  a  chastisement  from  thy 
displeasure  !  O  Lord,  we  beseech  thee  that  it  may  not  be  so  :  we 
beseech  thee,  if  it  be  thy  good  pleasure,  restore  unto  us  our  dear 
brother,  by  restoring  to  him  his  health :  so  will  we  praise  and 
magnify  thy  name,  and  mercy,  with  a  song  of  tlianksgiving. 
Hear  us,  O  Lord,  for  thy  dear  Son's  sake,  Jesus  Christ  our 
Saviour.  Amen." 

Thus  have  I  complied  with  the  desire  of  a  worthy  friend  ;  ami 
in  so  doing  have,  I  think,  given  to  the  public,  in  these  examples, 
not  only  a  proof  of  the  piety  of  Mr.  Ferrar,  but  also  of  his  excel- 
lence in  devotional  composition. 


Let  us  all  adore  and  bless  God's  wisest  choices,  and  set  vigorously  to  the 
task  that  lies  before  us ;  improving  the  present  advantages,  and  supplying  in 
the  abundance  of  the  inward  beauty  what  is  wanting  to  the  outward  lustre  of 
a  Church ;  and  we  shall  not  fail  to  find  that  the  grots  and  caves  lie  as  open 
to  the  celestial  influences  as  the  fairest  and  most  beautified  temples. — And  it 
must  be  our  greatest  blame  and  wretchedness,  if  what  hath  now  befallen  us 
be  not  effectually  better  for  us,  than  whatever  else  even  piety  could  have  sug- 
gested to  us  to  wish  or  pray  for. 



IN  the  year  1660  was  published  in  4to,  a  volume  intitled,  The 
Shaking  of  the  Olive  Tree :  the  remaining  Works  of  that  incom- 
parable prelate  Joseph  Hall,  D.D.  late  lord  Ushop  of  Norwich.  It 
contained  among  other  things,  Observations  of  some  specialities  of 
Divine  Providence  in  the  Life  of  Joseph  Hall,  Ushop  of  Norwich ; 
and  his  Hard  Measure ;  both  written  with  his  own  hand.  The 
Following  Life  is  composed  principally  of  a  republication  of  those 
two  tracts.  They  are  printed  from  the  above-mentioned  edition 
of  the  year  1660. 


NOT  out  of  a  vain  affectation  of  my  own  glory,  which  I  know 
how  little  it  can  avail  me,  when  I  am  gone  hence ;  but  out  of 
a  sincere  desire  to  give  glory  to  my  God,  (whose  wonderful 
providence  I  have  noted  in  all  my  ways)  have  I  recorded  some 
remarkable  passages  of  my  fore- past  life.  What  I  have  done 
is  worthy  of  nothing,  but  silence  and  forgetfulness :  but  what 
God  hath  done  for  me,  is  worthy  of  everlasting  and  thankful 

I  was  born  July  1,  1574,  at  five  of  the  clock  in  the  morning, 
in  Bristow-Park,  within  the  parish  of  Ashby  de  la  Zouch,  a  town 
in  Leicestershire,  of  honest  and  well  allowed  patronage.  My 
father  was  an  officer  under  that  truly  honourable  and  religious 
Henry,  earl  of  Huntingdon,  president  of  the  north,  and  under  him 
had  the  government  of  that  market-town,  wherein  the  chief  seat 
of  that  earldom  is  placed.  My  mother  Winifride,  of  the  house  of 
the  Bambridges  *,  was  a  woman  of  that  rare  sanctity,  that  (were  it 
not  for  my  interest  in  nature,)  I  durst  say,  that  neither  Aleth, 
the  mother  of  that  just  honour  of  Clareval 2 ;  nor  Monica,  nor  any 
other  of  those  pious  matrons,  antiently  famous  for  devotion,  need 
to  disdain  her  admittance  to  comparison.  She  was  continually 
exercised  with  the  affliction  of  a  weak  body,  and  oft  of  a  wounded 
spirit,  the  agonies  whereof,  as  she  would  oft  recount  with  much 
passion,  professing  that  the  greatest  bodily  sicknesses  were  but 
flea-bites  to  those  scorpions,  so  from  them  all  at  last  she  found 
an  happy  and  comfortable  deliverance,  and  that  not  without  a 

1  Bambridges]  Or  rather  Bainbridge,  or  Bainbrigge,  of  Ashby  and  Lock- 
in  gton. 

2  Just  honour  of  Clareval.']  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  whose  mother  was 
Alethea,  daughter  of  the  Count  of  Montbar. 


more  than  ordinary  hand  of  God.  For  on  a  time  being  in  great 
distress  of  conscience,  she  thought  in  her  dream,  there  stood  by 
her  a  grave  personage,  in  the  gown,  and  other  habits  of  a  physi- 
cian, who  enquiring  of  her  estate,  and  receiving  a  sad  and  queru- 
lous answer  from  her,  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  bade  her  be  of 
good  comfort,  for  this  should  be  the  last  fit  that  ever  she  should 
feel  of  this  kind ;  whereto  she  seemed  to  answer,  that  upon  that 
condition,  she  could  well  be  content  for  the  time,  with  that,  or 
any  other  torment.  Reply  was  made  to  her,  as  she  thought,  with 
a  redoubled  assurance  of  that  happy  issue  of  this  her  last  trial ; 
whereat  she  began  to  conceive  an  unspeakable  joy ;  which  yet 
upon  her  awaking  left  her  more  disconsolate,  as  then  conceiting 
her  happiness  imaginary,  her  misery  real ;  when  the  very  same 
day,  she  was  visited  by  the  reverend,  and  (in  his  time)  famous 
divine,  Mr.  Anthony  Gilby  s,  under  whose  ministry  she  lived ;  who, 
upon  the  relation  of  this  her  pleasing  vision,  and  the  contrary 
effects  it  had  in  her,  began  to  persuade  her,  that  dream  was  no 
other  than  divine,  and  that  she  had  good  reason  to  think  that 
gracious  premonition  was  sent  her  from  God  himself,  who,  though 
ordinarily  he  keeps  the  common  road  of  his  proceedings,  yet 
sometimes  in  the  distresses  of  his  servants,  he  goes  unusual  ways  to 
their  relief.  Hereupon  she  began  to  take  heart,  and  by  good  coun- 
sel and  her  fervent  prayers,  found  that  happy  prediction  verified 
to  her ;  and  upon  all  occasions  in  the  remainder  of  her  life,  was 
ready  to  magnify  the  mercy  of  her  God  in  so  sensible  a  deliver- 
ance. What  with  the  trial  of  both  these  hands  of  God,  so  had 
she  profited  in  the  school  of  Christ,  that  it  was  hard  for  any  friend 
to  come  from  her  discourse  no  whit  holier.  How  often  have  I 
blessed  the  memory  of  those  divine  passages  of  experimental  divi- 
nity, which  I  have  heard  from  her  mouth  !  What  day  did  she 
pass  without  a  large  task  of  private  devotion,  whence  she  would 
still  come  forth  with  a  countenance  of  undissembled  mortification  ! 
Never  any  lips  have  read  to  me  such  feeling  lectures  of  piety ; 
neither  have  I  known  any  soul,  that  more  accurately  prac •; 
them,  than  her  own.  Temptations,  desertions,  and  spiritual 
comforts  were  her  usual  theme ;  shortly,  for  I  can  hardly  take 

*  Anthony  Gilby.']  A  native  of  Lincolnshire,  vicar  of  Ashby.  He  was  one 
of  the  most  eminent  of  the  early  puritans.  Peck  says  that  lie  lived  at  Ashby 
"  as  great  as  a  1  SM  Tenner's  UHiliotheca,  p.  318.  Hcylin's  Presby- 

terians, p.  2f)O.      Fuller's  Church  ///.s/o?-//.  ix.  TC. 


off  my  pen  from  so  exemplary  a  subject,  her  life  and  death  were 

My  parents  had  from  mine  infancy  devoted  me  to  this  sacred 
calling,  whereto,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  I  have  seasonably 
attained.  For  this  cause  I  was  trained  up  in  the  public  school 
of  the  place.  After  I  had  spent  some  years  (not  altogether  indi- 
ligently)  under  the  ferule  of  such  masters  as  the  place  afforded, 
and  had  near  attained  to  some  competent  ripeness  for  the  univer- 
sity ;  my  school-master,  being  a  great  admirer  of  one  Mr.  Pelset4, 
who  was  then  lately  come  from  Cambridge,  to  be  the  public 
preacher  of  Leicester,  (a  man  very  eminent  in  those  times,  for 
the  fame  of  his  learning,  but  especially  for  his  sacred  oratory) 
persuaded  my  father,  that  if  I  might  have  my  education  under  so 
excellent  and  complete  a  divine,  it  might  be  both  a  nearer,  and 
easier  way  to  his  purposed  end,  than  by  an  academical  institution. 
The  motion  sounded  well  in  my  father's  ears,  and  carried  fair 
probabilities  ;  neither  was  it  other  than  fore-compacted  betwixt 
my  school-master  and  Mr.  Pelset ;  so  as  on  both  sides  it  was 
entertained  with  great  forwardness. 

The  gentleman,  upon  essay  taken  of  my  fitness  for  the  use  of 
his  studies,  undertakes  within  one  seven  years,  to  send  me  forth, 
no  less  furnished  with  arts,  languages  and  grounds  of  theorical 
divinity,  than  the  carefullest  tutor  in  the  strictest  college  of  either 
university.  Which  that  he  might  assuredly  perform,  to  prevent 
the  danger  of  any  mutable  thoughts  in  my  parents,  or  myself,  he 
desired  mutual  bonds  to  be  drawn  betwixt  us.  The  great  charge 
of  my  father,  (whom  it  pleased  God  to  bless  with  twelve  children) 
made  him  the  more  apt  to  yield  to  so  likely  a  project  for  a  younger 
son.  There,  and  now  were  all  the  hopes  of  my  future  life  upon 
blasting.  The  indentures  were  preparing,  the  time  was  set,  my 
suits  were  addressed  for  the  journey.  What  was  the  issue  I  O 
God,  thy  providence  made  and  found  it.  Thou  knowest  how  sin- 
cerely and  heartily,  in  those  my  young  years  a,  I  did  cast  myself 
upon  thy  hands ;  with  what  faithful  resolution,  I  did  in  this  par- 
ticular occasion  resign  myself  over  to  thy  disposition,  earnestly 
begging  of  thee  in  my  fervent  prayers,  to  order  all  things  to  the 
best ;  and  confidently  waiting  upon  thy  will  for  the  event.  Cer- 

4  Mr.  Pelset.]  More  probably  Pelsant,  of  the  Leicestershire  family  of  that 
name  ;  several  members  of  it  held  preferments  in  the  county. 
a  Anno  yEtatis  15°. 


tainly,  never  did  I  in  all  my  life  more  clearly  roll  myself  upon  the 
Divine  Providence,  than  I  did  in  this  business ;  and  it  succeeded 

It  fell  out  at  this  time,  that  my  elder  brother  having  some 
occasions  to  journey  unto  Cambridge,  was  kindly  entertained 
there,  by  Mr.  Nathaniel  Gilby 8,  fellow  of  Emanuel  college,  who, 
for  that  he  was  born  in  the  same  town  with  me,  and  had  con- 
ceived some  good  opinion  of  my  aptness  to  learning,  inquired  dili- 
gently concerning  me ;  and  hearing  of  the  diversion  of  my  father's 
purposes  from  the  university,  importunately  dissuaded  from  that 
new  course,  professing  to  pity  the  loss  of  so  good  hopes.  My 
brother,  partly  moved  with  his  words,  and  partly  won  by  his  own 
eyes,  to  a  great  love,  and  reverence  of  an  academical  life,  return- 
ing home,  fell  upon  his  knees  to  my  father,  and  after  the  report 
of  Mr.  Gilby's  words,  and  his  own  admiration  of  the  place,  earn- 
estly besought  him,  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  alter  that  so  pre- 
judicial a  resolution,  that  he  would  not  suffer  my  hopes  to  be 
drowned  in  a  shallow  country-channel ;  but  that  he  would  revive 
his  first  purposes  for  Cambridge ;  adding  in  the  zeal  of  his  love, 
that  if  the  chargeableness  of  that  course  were  the  hinderance,  he 
did  there  humbly  beseech  him,  rather  to  sell  some  part  of  that 
land,  which  himself  should  in  course  of  nature  inherit,  than  to 
abridge  me  of  that  happy  means  to  perfect  my  education. 

No  sooner  had  he  spoken  these  words  than  my  father  no  less 
passionately  condescended ;  not  without  a  vehement  protestation, 
that  whatsoever  it  might  cost  him,  I  should  (God  willing)  be  sent 
to  the  university.  Neither  were  those  words  sooner  out  of  his 
lips,  than  there  was  a  messenger  from  Mr.  Pelset  knocking  at 
the  door,  to  call  me  to  that  fairer  bondage,  signifying,  that  the 
next  day  he  expected  me,  with  a  full  dispatch  of  all  that  business. 
To  whom  my  father  replied,  that  he  came  some  minutes  too  late ; 
that  he  had  now  otherwise  determined  of  me ;  and  with  a  re- 
spective message  of  thanks  to  the  master,  sent  the  man  home 
empty,  leaving  me  full  of  the  tears  of  joy  for  so  happy  a  chnn^v. 
Indeed  I  had  been  but  lost,  if  that  project  had  succeeded ;  as  it 
well  appeared  in  the  experience  of  him  who  succeeded  in  that 
room,  which  was  by  me  thus  unexpectedly  forsaken. — O  (;<•<!.  h<>\\ 
\\.is  I  then  taken  up  with  a  thankful  acknowledgment,  and  joyful 
admiration  of  thy  gracious  providence  over  me  ! 

*  Nathaniel   Gilby.']     Son  of  the  preceding  Anthony   Gilby,   whom   he 
succeeded  as  vicar  of  Ashby. 


And  now  I  lived  in  the  expectation  of  Cambridge  ;  whither  ere 
long  I  happily  came,  under  Mr.  Gilby's  tuition,  together  with  my 
worthy  friend  Mr.  Hugh  Cholmley  6,  who,  as  we  had  been  partners 
of  one  lesson  from  our  cradles,  so  were  we  now  for  many  years 
partners  of  one  bed.  My  two  first  years  were  necessarily  charge- 
able, above  the  proportion  of  my  father's  power,  whose  not  very 
large  cistern,  was  to  feed  many  pipes  besides  mine.  His  weari- 
ness of  expense  was  wrought  upon  by  the  counsel  of  some  unwise 
friends,  who  persuaded  him  to  fasten  me  upon  that  school  as 
master,  whereof  I  was  lately  a  scholar.  Now  was  I  fetched 
home  with  an  heavy  heart ;  and  now  this  second  time  had  mine 
hopes  been  nipped  in  the  blossom,  had  not  God  raised  me  up  an 
unhoped  benefactor,  Mr.  Edmund  Sleigh 7  of  Derby  (whose  pious 
memory  I  have  cause  ever  to  love  and  reverence).  Out  of  no 
other  relation  to  me,  save  that  he  married  my  aunt,  pitying  my 
too  apparent  dejectedness,  he  voluntarily  urged,  and  solicited  my 
father  for  my  return  to  the  university,  and  offered  freely  to  con- 
tribute the  one  half  of  my  maintenance  there,  till  I  should  attain 
to  the  degree  of  master  of  arts,  which  he  no  less  really  and 
lovingly  performed.  The  condition  was  gladly  accepted ;  thither 
was  I  sent  back  with  joy  enough,  and  ere  long,  chosen  scholar  of 
that  strict  and  well  ordered  college. 

By  that  time  I  had  spent  six  years  there,  now  the  third  year 
of  my  bachelorship  should  at  once  both  make  an  end  of  my  main- 
tenance, and  in  respect  of  standing,  gave  me  a  capacity  of  fur- 
ther preferment  in  that  house,  were  it  not  that  my  country  ex- 
cluded me,  for  our  statute  allowed  but  one  of  a  shire  to  be  fellow 
there,  and  my  tutor  being  of  the  same  town  with  me,  must  there- 
fore necessarily  hold  me  out.  But,  O  my  God,  how  strangely 
did  thy  gracious  providence  bring  this  business  about !  I  was  now 
entertaining  motions  of  remove.  A  place  was  offered  me  in  the 
island  of  Guernsey,  which  I  had  in  speech  and  chase.  It  fell  out 
that  the  father  of  my  loving  chamberfellow,  Mr.  Cholmley,  a 
gentleman  that  had  likewise  dependance  upon  the  most  noble 
Henry  earl  of  Huntingdon,  having  occasion  to  go  to  York,  unto 
that  his  honourable  lord,  fell  into  some  mention  of  me.  That 
good  earl  (who  well  esteemed  my  fathers  service)  having  belikely 

6  Hugh  Cholmley.']  Probably  of  the  family  of  Chomley  of  Bransby. 

7  Edmund  SleighJ]   Of  Derby  and  Little  Ireton,  of  a  good  family,  which 
became  extinct  at  the  death,  in  1679,  of  Sir  Samuel  Sleigh,  of  Ash  and  Etvvall 
in  Derbyshire,  and  of  Gray's  Inn,  London,  knight. 

VOL.   IV.  T 


heard  some  better  words  of  me  than  I  could  deserve,  made  ear- 
nest inquiry  after  me,  what  were  my  courses  ;  what  my  hopes  ; 
and  hearing  of  the  likelihood  of  my  removal,  professed  much 
dislike  of  it ;  not  without  some  vehemence,  demanding  why  I 
was  not  chosen  fellow  of  that  college,  wherein  by  report  I 
received  such  approbation.  Answer  was  returned  that  my  coun- 
try debarred  me ;  which  being  filled  with  my  tutor,  whom  his 
lordship  well  knew,  could  not  by  the  statute  admit  a  second. 
The  earl  presently  replied,  that  if  that  were  the  hinderance  he 
would  soon  take  order  to  remove  it ;  whereupon  his  lordship  pre- 
sently sends  for  my  tutor  Mr.  Gilby  unto  York,  and  with  proffer 
of  large  conditions  of  the  chaplainship  in  his  house,  and  assured 
promises  of  better  provisions,  drew  him  to  relinquish  his  place 
in  the  college  to  a  free  election.  No  sooner  was  his  assent  signi- 
fied, than  the  days  were  set  for  the  public  (and  indeed  exquisite) 
examination  of  the  competitors.  By  that  time  two  days  of  the 
three  allotted  to  this  trial  were  past,  certain  news  came  to  us  of 
the  unexpected  death 8  of  that  incomparably  religious  and  noble 
earl  of  Huntingdon,  by  whose  loss  my  then  disappointed  tutor 
must  necessarily  be  left  to  the  wide  world  unprovided  for.  Upon 
notice  thereof  I  presently  repaired  to  the  master  of  the  college, 
Mr.  Dr.  Chaderton 9,  and  besought  him  to  tender  that  hard  con- 
dition to  which  my  good  tutor  must  needs  be  driven  if  the  election 
proceeded ;  to  stay  any  farther  progress  in  that  business  ;  and  to 
leave  me  to  my  own  good  hopes  wheresoever,  whose  youth  ex- 
posed me  both  to  less  needs,  and  more  opportunities  of  provision. 
Answer  was  made  me,  that  the  place  was  pronounced  void  how- 
ever, and  therefore  that  my  tutor  was  divested  of  all  possibility 
of  remedy ;  and  must  wait  upon  the  providence  of  God  for  his 
disposing  elsewhere,  and  the  election  must  necessarily  proceed 
the  day  following.  Then  was  1  with  a  cheerful  unanimity  chosen 
into  that  society,  which  if  it  had  any  equals,  I  dare  say  had  none 
beyond  it,  for  good  order,  studious  carriage,  strict  government, 
austere  piety ;  in  which  I  spent  six  or  seven  years  more  with 
such  contentment,  as  the  rest  of  my  life  hath  in  vain  striven  t«» 

8  Death.]   15Q5. 

9  Dr.  Chaderton.]   Laurence  Chaderton  was  the  first  master  of  Emannel 
College,  having  been  appointed  by  the  founder.  Sir  Walter  Mildmay.     lit 
was  one  of  the  four  divines  for  the  Conference  at  Hampton  Court,  and  one  of 
the  Translators  of  the  Bible,     lit-,  with  other  Cambridge  divines,  trans 
from  Chronicles  to  Canticles  inclusive.      lie  lived  till 


yield.  Now  was  I  called  to  public  disputations  often,  with  no  ill 
success ;  for  never  durst  I  appear  in  any  of  those  exercises  of 
scholarship,  till  I  had  from  my  knees  looked  up  to  heaven  for  a 
blessing,  and  renewed  my  actual  dependence  upon  that  divine 
hand.  In  this  while  two  years  together  was  I  chosen  to  the 
rhetoric  lecture  in  the  public  schools,  where  I  was  encouraged 
with  a  sufficient  frequence  of  auditors ;  but  finding  that  well  ap- 
plauded work  somewhat  out  of  my  way,  not  without  a  secret 
blame  of  myself  for  so  much  excursion,  I  fairly  gave  up  that 
task  in  the  midst  of  those  poor  acclamations  to  a  worthy  succes- 
sor Dr.  Dod,  and  betook  myself  to  those  serious  studies,  which 
might  fit  me  for  that  high  calling  whereunto  I  was  destined, 
wherein  after  I  had  carefully  bestowed  myself  for  a  time,  I  took 
the  boldness  to  enter  into  sacred  orders  ;  the  honour  whereof 
having  once  attained,  I  was  no  niggard  of  that  talent  which  my 
God  had  entrusted  to  me,  preaching  often  as  occasion  was  offered, 
both  in  country  villages  abroad,  and  at  home  in  the  most  awful 
auditory  of  the  university. 

And  now  I  did  but  wait  where  and  how  it  would  please  my 
God  to  employ  me.  There  was  at  that  time  a  famous  school 10 
erected  at  Tiverton  in  Devon,  and  endowed  with  a  very  large 
pension,  whose  goodly  fabric  was  answerable  to  the  reported 
maintenance ;  the  care  whereof,  was  by  the  rich  and  bountiful 
founder  Mr.  Blundel,  cast  principally  upon  the  then  lord  chief 
justice  Popham  *.  That  faithful  observer  having  great  interest  in 
the  master  of  our  house,  Dr.  Chaderton,  moved  him  earnestly 
to  commend  some  able,  learned,  and  discrete  governor  to  that 
weighty  charge,  whose  action  should  not  need  to  be  so  much  as 
his  oversight.  It  pleased  our  master  out  of  his  good  opinion  to 
tender  this  condition  unto  me,  assuring  me  of  no  small  advan- 
tages, and  no  great  toil,  since  it  was  intended  the  main  load  of 
the  work  should  lie  upon  other  shoulders.  I  apprehended  the 
motion  worth  the  entertaining.  In  that  severe  society  our  times 
were  stinted,  neither  was  it  wise  or  safe  to  refuse  good  offers. 
Doctor  Chaderton  carried  me  to  London,  and  there  presented  me 
to  the  lord  chief  justice  with  much  testimony  of  approbation. 

10  Famous  school.']  Founded  by  Peter  Blundell,  clothier,  a  native  of  the 
place,  in  1599.  An  account  of  the  school  was  privately  printed  by  Benjamin 
Incledon,  of  Pilton,  in  Devonshire,  which  was  reprinted  in  1804  by  order  of 
the  feoffees. 

1  Popham^]   Sir  John  Popham. 

T    2 


The  judge  seemed  well  apayed  with  the  choice.  I  promised 
acceptance,  he  the  strength  of  his  favour.  No  sooner  had  I 
parted  from  the  judge,  than  in  the  street  a  messenger  presented 
me  with  a  letter,  from  the  right  virtuous  and  worthy  lady  (of 
dear  and  happy  memory)  the  lady  Drury 3  of  Suffolk,  tendering 
the  rectory  of  her  Halsted 3  then  newly  void,  and  very  earnestly 
desiring  me  to  accept  of  it.  Dr.  Chaderton  observing  in  me  some 
change  of  countenance,  asked  me  what  the  matter  might  be.  I 
told  him  the  errand,  and  delivered  him  the  letter  beseeching  his 
advice;  which  when  he  had  read.  u  Sir,"  (quoth  I)  "methinks 
God  pulls  me  by  the  sleeve,  and  tells  me  it  is  his  will  I  should 
rather  go  to  the  east  than  to  the  west."  "  Nay  "  (he  answered) 
"  I  should  rather  think  that  God  would  have  you  go  westward, 
for  that  he  hath  contrived  your  engagement  before  the  tender  of 
this  letter,  which  therefore  coming  too  late  may  receive  a  fair 
and  easy  answer."  To  this  I  besought  him  to  pardon  my  dis- 
sent, adding,  that  I  well  knew  that  divinity  was  the  end  whereto 
1  was  destined  by  my  parents,  which  I  had  so  constantly  pro- 
posed to  myself,  that  I  never  meant  other,  than  to  pass  through 
this  western  school  to  it ;  but  I  saw  that  God  who  found  me 
ready  to  go  the  farther  way  about,  now  called  me  the  nearest  and 
directest  way  to  that  sacred  end.  The  good  man  could  no  fur- 
ther oppose,  but  only  pleaded  the  distaste  which  would  hereupon 
be  justly  taken  by  the  lord  chief  justice,  whom  I  undertook  fully 
to  satisfy ;  which  I  did  *  with  no  great  difficulty,  commending  to 
his  lordship  in  my  room,  my  old  friend  and  chamber-fellow  Mr. 
Cholmley,  who  finding  an  answerable  acceptance  disposed  himself 
to  the  place ;  so  as  we  two,  who  came  together  to  the  university, 
now  must  leave  it  at  once. 

Having  then  fixed  my  foot  at  Halsted,  I  found  there  a  dan- 
gerous opposite  to  the  success  of  my  ministry,  a  witty  and  bold 
atheist,  one  Mr.  Lilly,  who  by  reason  of  his  travails,  and  abili- 
ties of  discourse  and  behaviour,  had  so  deeply  insinuated  himself 
into  my  patron,  sir  Robert  Drury,  that  there  was  small  hopes 
(during  his  entireness)  for  me  to  work  any  good  upon  that  noble 

2  Lady  Drury.']  Anne,  eldest  daughter  of  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  of  Red- 
grave, the  first  baronet  of  England. 

8  Halsted.]  Now  Hawsted  :  he  was  instituted  December  2,  1601. 

4  Which  I  did.]  He  resigned  on  the  same  day  on  which  he  had  accepted 
the  appointment.  Sir  John  Popham,  however,  did  not  appoint  Cholmley  in 
his  room,  but  Samuel  Butler. 


patron  of  mine  ;  who  by  the  suggestion  of  this  wicked  detractor 
was  set  off  from  me  before  he  knew  me.  Hereupon  (I  confess) 
finding  the  obduredness  and  hopeless  condition  of  that  man,  I 
bent  my  prayers  against  him,  beseeching  God  daily,  that  he  would 
be  pleased  to  remove  by  some  means  or  other,  that  apparent  hin- 
derance  of  my  faithful  labours ;  who  gave  me  an  answer  accord- 
ingly. For  this  malicious  man  going  hastily  up  to  London,  to 
exasperate  my  patron  against  me,  was  then  and  there  swept 
away  by  the  pestilence,  and  never  returned  to  do  any  farther 

Now  the  coast  was  clear  before  me,  and  I  gained  every  day  of 
the  good  opinion  and  favourable  respects  of  that  honourable  gen- 
tleman and  my  worthy  neighbours.  Being  now  therefore  settled 
in  that  sweet  and  civil  country  of  Suffolk,  near  to  St.  EdmundV 
Bury,  my  first  work  was  to  build  up  my  house  which  was  then 
extremely  ruinous ;  which  done,  the  uncouth  solitariness  of  my 
life,  and  the  extreme  incommodity  of  that  single  house-keeping, 
drew  my  thoughts  after  two  years  to  condescend  to  the  necessity 
of  a  married  estate,  which  God  no  less  strangely  provided  for  me. 
For  walking  from  the  church  on  Monday  in  the  Whitsun-week, 
with  a  grave  and  reverend  minister,  Mr.  Grandidge,  I  saw  a 
comely  modest  gentlewoman  standing  at  the  door  of  that  house, 
where  we  were  invited  to  a  wedding-dinner,  and  enquiring  of  that 
worthy  friend  whether  he  knew  her,  "  Yes,"  (quoth  he)  "  I  know 
her  well,  and  have  bespoken  her  for  your  wife."  When  I  fur- 
ther demanded  an  account  of  that  answer,  he  told  me,  she  was 
the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  whom  he  much  respected,  Mr. 
George  Winniff 5  of  Bretenham  ;  that  out  of  an  opinion  had  of  the 
fitness  of  that  match  for  me,  he  had  already  treated  with  her 
father  about  it,  whom  he  found  very  apt  to  entertain  it,  advising 
me  not  to  neglect  the  opportunity ;  and  not  concealing  the  just 
praises  of  the  modesty,  piety,  good  disposition,  and  other  virtues 
that  were  lodged  in  that  seemly  presence,  I  listened  to  the  mo- 
tion as  sent  from  God ;  and  at  last  upon  due  prosecution  happily 
prevailed,  enjoying  the  comfortable  society  of  that  meet  help  for 
the  space  of  forty-nine  years. 

I  had  not  passed  two  years  in  this  estate  when  my  noble  friend 
sir  Edmund  Bacon 6,  with  whom  I  had  much  intireness,  came  to 

6  Winniff.~]  Or  Wenyeve.  The  bishop's  eldest  son,  Robert,  was  christened  at 
Hawsted  on  December  26,  1605. 
6  Sir  Edmund  Bacon.']  Brother  to  lady  Drury. 


me,  and  earnestly  solicited  me  for  my  company  in  a  journey  by 
him  projected  to  the  Spa  in  Ardenna 7,  laying  before  me  the  safety, 
the  easiness,  the  pleasure,  and  the  benefit  of  that  small  extrava- 
gance, if  opportunity  were  taken  at  that  time,  when  the  earl  of 
Hertford 8  passed  in  embassy  to  the  arch-duke  Albert  of  Bruxells. 
I  soon  yielded,  as  for  the  reasons  by  him  urged,  so  especially  for 
the  great  desire  I  had  to  inform  myself  ocularly  of  the  state  and 
practice  of  the  Romish  church ;  the  knowledge  whereof  might 
be  of  no  small  use  to  me  in  my  holy  station.  Having  therefore 
taken  careful  order  for  the  supply  of  my  charge,  with  the  assent 
and  good  allowance  of  my  nearest  friends,  I  entered  into  this 
secret  voyage 9. 

7  In  Ardenna.']  In  the  forest  of  Ardennes. 

8  Earl  of  HertfcrdJ]   Edward   Seymour,  earl  of    Hertford,  son  of  the 
Protector  duke  of  Somerset,  and   celebrated  for  his  marriage  with  lady 
Katharine  Grey.   The  embassy  in  1 605  was  special,  to  confirm  a  peace ;  and  the 
earl,  who  was  generally  thought  to  be  master  of  more  ready  money  than  any 
nobleman  in  England,  resolved  to  make  a  splendid  appearance,  and  to  spend 
10,000/.  besides  his  allowance. 

9  This  secret  voyage.]   See  Bishop  Hall's  Epistles,  Decad.  i.  epist.  5.     A 
report  of  some  observations  in  my  TYavel. 

I  give  an  extract  or  two  from  this  letter  of  matters  not  comprehended  in 
the  text. 

"  All  civil  occurrences ;  as  what  fair  cities,  what  strange  fashions,  enter- 
tainments, dangers,  delights  we  found, — are  fit  for  other  ears,  and  winter 
evenings  :  what  I  noted  as  a  divine,  within  the  sphere  of  my  profession,  my 
paper  shall  not  spare,  in  some  part,  to  report. 

"  Along  our  way,  how  many  churches  saw  we  demolished  !  Nothing  left, 
but  rude  heaps,  to  tell  the  passenger,  there  had  been  both  devotion  and  hos- 
tility. O  !  the  miserable  footsteps  of  war,  besides  bloodshed,  ruin,  and  deso- 
lation !  Fury  hath  done  that  there,  which  covetousness  would  do  with  us : — 
would  do,  but  shall  not :  the  truth  within  shall  save  the  walls  without.  And, 
to  speak  truly,  whatever  the  vulgar  exclaim,  idolatry  pulled  down  those  walls ; 
not  rage.  If  there  had  been  no  Hollander  to  raze  them,  they  should  have 
fallen  alone ;  rather  than  hide  so  much  impiety  under  their  guilty  roof. — 
These  are  spectacles,  not  so  much  of  cruelty,  as  justice :  cruelty  of  man,  justice 
of  God. 

"  But, — which  I  wondered  at,  churches  fall,  and  Jesuits'  colleges  rise  every 
where :  there  is  no  city,  where  these  are  not  either  rearing,  or  built.  Whence 
cometh  this  ?  Is  it,  for  that  devotion  is  not  so  necessary,  as  policy  ?  Those 
men,  as  we  say  of  the  fox,  fare  best,  when  they  are  most  cursed.  None,  so 
much  spited  of  their  own ;  none,  so  hated  of  all ;  none,  so  opposed  by  ours  : 
and  yet,  these  ill  weeds  grow.  Whosoever  lives  long,  shall  see  them  feared 
of  their  own,  which  now  hate  them  :  shall  see  these  seven  lean  kine  devour 
all  the  fat  beasts,  that  feed  on  the  meadows  of  Tiber.  I  prophesy,  as  Pharaoh 
dreamed  :  the  event  shall  justify  my  confidence.  ["  At 


We  waited  some  days  at  Harwich  for  a  wind,  which  we  hoped 
might  waft  us  over  to  Dunkirk,  where  our  ambassador  had  lately 
landed ;  but  at  last  having  spent  a  day,  and  half  a  night  at  sea, 
we  were  forced  for  want  of  favour  from  the  wind,  to  put  in  at 
Queenborough,  from  whence  coasting  over  the  rich  and  pleasant 
county  of  Kent,  we  renewed  our  shipping  at  Dover,  and  soon 
landing  at  Calais,  we  passed  after  two  days  by  waggon  to  the 
strong  towns  of  Graveling,  and  Dunkirk,  where  I  could  not  but 
find  much  horror  in  myself  to  pass  under  those  dark  and  dreadful 
prisons,  where  so  many  brave  Englishmen  had  breathed  out  their 
souls  in  a  miserable  captivity.  From  thence  we  passed  through 
Winnoxburgh,  Ipre,  Gaunt,  Courtray,  to  Bruxells,  where  the 

"  At  Brussells  I  saw  some  English  women  profess  themselves  vestals  ;  with 
a  thousand  rites,  I  know  not  whether  more  ridiculous,  or  magical.  Poor 
souls  !  they  could  not  be  fools  enough  at  home.  It  would  have  made  you  to 
pity,  laugh,  disdain,  I  know  not  which  most,  to  see  by  what  cunning  slights 
and  fair  pretences,  that  weak  sex  was  fetched  into  a  wilful  bondage  :  and,  if 
those  two  can  agree,  willingly  constrained  to  serve  a  master,  whom  they  must 
and  cannot  obey :  whom  they  may  neither  forsake  for  their  vow,  nor  can 
please  for  their  frailty. — What  follows  hence  ?  Late  sorrow,  secret  mischief, 
misery  irremediable.  Their  forwardness  for  will-worship  shall  condemn  our 
coldness  for  truth 

f '  At  Ghent,  a  city  that  commands  reverence  for  age,  and  wonder  for  great- 
ness, we  fell  upon  a  Capuchin  novice,  which  wept  bitterly,  because  he  was 
not  allowed  to  be  miserable.  His  head  had  now  felt  the  razor ;  his  back,  the 
rod  :  all  that  laconical  discipline  pleased  him  well ;  which  another,  being 
condemned  to,  would  justly  account  a  torment. — What  hindered,  then  ? — 
Piety  to  his  mother  would  not  permit  this,  which  he  thought  piety  to  God  : 
He  could  not  be  a  willing  beggar,  unless  his  mother  must  beg  unwillingly. 
He  was  the  only  heir  of  his  father ;  the  only  stay  of  his  mother.  The  com- 
fort of  her  widowhood  depended  on  this  her  orphan  ;  who  now,  naked,  must 
enter  into  the  world  of  the  Capuchins,  as  he  came  first  into  this  ;  leaving  his 
goods  to  the  division  of  the  fraternity  :  the  least  part  whereof  should  have 
been  hers,  whose  he  wished  all.  Hence  those  tears,  that  repulse.  I  pitied 
his  ill-bestowed  zeal;  and  rather  wished,  than  durst  teach  him,  more  wisdom. 
These  men  for  devout,  the  Jesuits  for  learned  and  pragmatical,  have  engrossed 
all  opinions  from  other  orders. — O  hypocrisy !  No  Capuchin  may  take,  or 
touch  silver  :  for  these  are,  you  know,  the  quintessence  of  Franciscan  spirits. 
This  metal  is  as  very  an  anathema  to  these,  as  the  wedge  of  gold  to  Achan  : 
at  the  offer  whereof,  he  starts  back,  as  Moses  from  the  serpent :  yet  he  car- 
ries a  boy  with  him,  that  takes  and  carries  it ;  and  never  complains  of  either 
metal  or  measure.  I  saw,  and  laughed  at  it ;  and,  by  this  open  trick  of 
hypocrisy,  suspected  more,  more  close.  How  could  I  choose  ?  while,  com- 
monly, the  least  appears  of  that  which  is  loathsome  in  appearance,  much  more 
in  nature. — At  Namur,  on  a  pleasant  and  steep  hill-top,  we  found  one,  that 
was  termed  a  married  hermit ;  approving  his  wisdom  above  his  fellows,  that 
could  make  choice  of  so  cheerful  and  sociable  a  solitariness." 


ambassador  had  newly  sate  down  before  us.  That  noble  gentle- 
man in  whose  company  I  travelled,  was  welcomed  with  many  kind 
visitations.  Amongst  the  rest  there  came  to  him  an  English  gen- 
tleman, who  having  run  himself  out  of  breath  in  the  inns  of  court, 
had  forsaken  his  country,  and  therewith  his  religion,  and  \\a-> 
turned  both  bigot  and  physician,  residing  now  in  Bruxells.  This 
man,  after  few  interchanges  of  compliment  with  sir  Edmund  Bacon, 
fell  into  an  hyperbolical  predication  of  the  wonderful  miracles 
done  newly *  by  our  lady  at  Zichem,  or  Sherpen  heavell,  that  is 
Sharp  hill ;  by  Lipsius  called  Aspricollis ;  the  credit  whereof  whun 
that  worthy  knight  wittily  questioned,  he  avowed  a  particular 
miracle  of  cure  wrought  by  her  upon  himself.  I  coming  into  the 
room  in  the  midst  of  this  discourse  (habited  not  like  a  divine, 
but  in  such  colour  and  fashion  as  might  best  secure  my  travel) 
and  hearing  my  countryman's  zealous  and  confident  relations,  at 
last  asked  him  this  question,  "  Sir,"  (quoth  I)  "  Put  case  this 
report  of  yours  be  granted  for  true,  I  beseech  you  teach  me  what 
difference  there  is  betwixt  these  miracles  which  you  say  are 
wrought  by  this  lady,  and  those  which  were  wrought  by  Vespasian, 
by  some  vestals,  by  charms  and  spells ;  the  rather  for  that  I  have 
noted,  in  the  late  published  report  of  these  miracles,  some  patients 
prescribed  to  come  upon  a  Friday,  and  some  to  wash  in  such  a 
well  before  their  approach;  and  divers  other  such  charm-like 
observations."  The  gentleman  not  expecting  such  a  question 
from  me,  answered,  "  Sir,  I  do  not  profess  this  kind  of  scholarship, 
but  we  have  in  the  city  many  famous  divines,  with  whom  if  it 
would  please  you  to  confer,  you  might  sooner  receive  satisfaction." 
I  asked  whom  he  took  for  the  most  eminent  divine  of  that 
place :  he  named  to  me  father  Costerus 8,  undertaking  that  he 

1  Wonderful  miracles  done  newly. ~]  At  Sichem,  a  small  town  in  Brabant, 
between  Aerschot  and  Diest,  and  seated  on  the  Demer,  was  an  old  church, 
repaired  by  the  archdukes  Albert  and  Isabella,  called  by  .the  natives  "  Scherpen- 
heuwel,"  by  the  French  Notre  Dame  de  Mont-aigu,  and  in  Latin  Sacellum  Diva 
Virginis  Aspricollis.  In  1G05,  the  year  before  his  death,  Justus  Lipsius  gave 
a  long  account  of  the  nova  beneficia  et  admiranda  operated  by  the  miracle- 
working  image  there  preserved,  and  he  dedicated  his  book  to  the  archduchess 
Isabella.  At  his  death  he  bequeathed  to  the  image  his  silver  pen  and  his 
furred  robe,  whereupon  some  one  wrote : 

"  Sensit  homo  frigere  suae  miracula  Divae, 

Crassaque  pro  calido  stragula  thure  dedit." 

2  Costerus."]  Franciscus  Costerus,  Provincial  in  the  Netherlands,  afterward^ 
general  of  the  order  at  Rome.  He  was  at  this  time  in  his  75th  year.  He 
died  in  1619. 


would  be  very  glad  to  give  me  conference,  if  I  would  be  pleased  to 
come  up  to  the  Jesuits  college.  I  willingly  yielded.  In  the 
afternoon  the  forward  gentleman  prevented  his  time  to  attend 
me  to  the  father,  (as  he  styled  him,)  who  (as  he  said)  was 
ready  to  entertain  me  with  a  meeting.  I  went  alone  up  with 
him ;  the  porter  shutting  the  door  after  me,  welcomed  me 
with  a  Deo  gratias.  I  had  not  stayed  long  in  the  Jesuits  hall, 
before  Costerus  came  in  to  me,  who  after  a  friendly  salutation, 
fell  into  a  formal  speech  of  the  unity  of  that  church,  out  of  which 
is  no  salvation,  and  had  proceeded  to  lose  his  breath,  and  labour, 
had  not  I  (as  civilly  as  I  might)  interrupted  him  with  this  short 
answer ;  "  Sir,  I  beseech  you  mistake  me  not.  My  nation  tells 
you  of  what  religion  I  am.  I  come  not  hither  out  of  any  doubt 
of  my  professed  belief,  or  any  purpose  to  change  it,  but  moving  a 
question  to  this  gentleman,  concerning  the  pretended  miracles  of 
the  time,  he  pleased  to  refer  me  to  yourself  for  my  answer,  which 
motion  of  his  I  was  the  more  willing  to  embrace,  for  the  fame 
that  I  have  heard  of  your  learning  and  worth ;  and  if  you  can 
give  me  satisfaction  herein,  I  am  ready  to  receive  it."  Hereupon 
we  settled  to  our  places,  at  a  table  in  the  end  of  the  hall, 
and  buckled  to  a  farther  discourse.  He  fell  into  a  poor  and 
unperfect  account  of  the  difference  of  divine  miracles  and  dia- 
bolical ;  which  I  modestly  refuted :  from  thence  he  slipped  into 
a  cholerick  invective  against  our  church,  which  (as  he  said) 
could  not  yield  one  miracle;  and  when  I  answered,  that  in 
our  church,  we  had  manifest  proofs  of  the  ejection  of  devils  by 
fasting  and  prayer,  he  answered  that  if  it  could  be  proved,  that 
ever  any  devil  was  dispossessed  in  our  church,  he  would  quit  his 
religion. — Many  questions  were  incidentally  traversed  by  me; 
wherein  I  found  no  satisfaction  given  me.  The  conference  was 
long  and  vehement ;  in  the  heat  whereof,  who  should  come  in 
but  father  Baldwin 3,  an  English  Jesuit,  known  to  me,  as  by  face 
(after  I  came  to  Brussels)  so  much  more  by  fame.  He  sate  down 
upon  a  bench  at  the  further  end  of  the  table,  and  heard  no  small 
part  of  our  dissertation,  seeming  not  too  well  apaid,  that  a  gentle- 
man of  his  nation,  (for  still  I  was  spoken  to  in  that  habit,  by  the 
stile  of  dominatio  vestra)  should  depart  from  the  Jesuits  college 

3  Father  Baldwin.]  William  Baldwin,  a  native  of  Cornwall,  at  first  professor 
of  theology  at  Louvain,  and  vice-prefect  of  the  English  Jesuit  mission  in  the 
Netherlands ;  afterwards  rector  of  the  English  seminary  at  St.  Omer.  He 
died  September  28,  1632,  aged  69. 


no  better  satisfied.  On  the  next  morning  therefore  he  sends  the 
same  English  physician  to  my  lodging  with  a  courteous  compel- 
lation,  professing  to  take  it  unkindly,  that  his  countryman  should 
make  choice  of  any  other,  to  confer  with,  than  himself,  who 
desired  both  mine  acquaintance  and  full  satisfaction.  Sir  Ed- 
mund Bacon,  in  whose  hearing  the  message  was  delivered,  gave 
me  secret  signs  of  his  utter  unwillingness  to  give  way  to  my  fur- 
ther conferences,  the  issue  whereof  (since  we  were  to  pass  further, 
and  beyond  the  bounds  of  that  protection)  might  prove  dangerous. 
I  returned  a  mannerly  answer  of  thanks  to  father  Baldwin  ;  but 
for  any  further  conference,  that  it  were  bootless.  I  could  not 
hope  to  convert  him,  and  was  resolved  he  should  not  alter  HK>, 
and  therefore  both  of  us  should  rest  where  we  were. 

Departing  from  Brussels  we  were  for  Namur,  and  Liege.  In 
the  way  we  found  the  good  hand  of  God,  in  delivering  us  from 
the  danger  of  free-booters,  and  of  a  nightly  entrance  (amidst  a 
suspicious  convoy)  into  that  bloody  city.  Thence  we  came  to  the 
Spadane  waters,  where  I  had  good  leisure  to  add  a  second  cen- 
tury of  meditations4  to  those  1  had  published  before  my  journey. 
After  we  had  spent  a  just  time  at  those  medicinal  wells,  we 
returned  to  Liege,  and  in  our  passage  up  the  river  Mosa5,  I  had 
a  dangerous  conflict  with  a  Sorbonist,  a  prior  of  the  Carmelites, 
who  took  occasion  by  our  kneeling  at  the  receipt  of  the  eucha- 
rist,  to  persuade  all  the  company  of  our  acknowledgment  of  a 
transubstantiation.  I  satisfied  the  cavil,  shewing  upon  what 
ground  *  this  meet  posture  obtained  with  us.  The  man  grew 
furious  upon  his  conviction,  and  his  vehement  associates  began  to 
join  with  him,  in  a  right  down  railing  upon  our  church,  and  ivli- 
gion.  I  told  them  they  knew  where  they  were :  for  me,  I  had 
taken  notice  of  the  security  of  their  laws,  inhibiting  any  argu- 
ment held  against  their  religion  established,  and  therefore  stood 
only  upon  my  defence,  not  casting  any  aspersion  upon  theirs,  but 
ready  to  maintain  our  own  ;  which  though  I  performed  in  as  fair 
terms  as  I  might,  yet  the  choler  of  those  zealots  was  so  moved 
that  the  paleness  of  their  changed  countenances  began  to  threaten 

4  Century  of  Meditations. ,]  See  "  Meditations  and  Vows,"  century  the  third, 
dedicated  to  sir  Edmund  Bacon.  Bp.  Hall's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  37,  8.  edit. 
1634.  fol. 

*  Mosa.']  The  Maas. 

6  Upon  what  yround.~]  Stc  the  Rubrics  subjoined  to  the  order  for  Adminis- 
tration of  the  Holy  C'oiiiimiinoii,  in  the  Book  of  Common  Pra 


some  perilous  issue,  had  not  sir  Edmund  Bacon,  both  by  his  eye, 
and  by  his  tongue,  wisely  taken  me  off.  I  subduced  myself 
speedily  from  their  presence,  to  avoid  further  provocation  :  the 
prior  began  to  bewray  some  suspicions  of  my  borrowed  habit,  and 
told  them,  that  himself  had  a  green  satin  suit  once  prepared  for 
his  travels  into  England,  so  as  I  found  it  needful  for  me  to  lie 
close  at  Namur ;  from  whence  travelling  the  next  day  towards 
Brussels  in  the  company  of  two  Italian  captains,  seignior  Ascanio 
Negro  and  another  whose  name  I  have  forgotten  :  they  enquiring 
into  our  nation  and  religion,  wondered  to  hear  that  we  had  any 
baptism  or  churches 7  in  England.  The  congruity  of  my  Latin, 
(in  respect  of  their  perfect  barbarism)  drew  me  and  the  rest  into 
their  suspicion,  so  as  I  might  overhear  them  muttering  to  each 
other,  that  we  were  not  the  men  we  appeared.  Straight  the  one 
of  them  boldly  exprest  his  conceit,  and  together  with  this  charge, 
began  to  enquire  of  our  condition.  I  told  them  that  the  gentle- 
man he  saw  before  us,  was  the  grandchild  of  that  renowned  Bacon, 
the  great  chancellor  of  England,  a  man  of  great  birth  and  quality, 
and  that  myself,  and  my  other  companions,  travelled  in  his  attend- 
ance to  the  Spa,  from  the  train,  and  under  the  privilege  of  our 
late  ambassador ;  with  which  just  answer  I  stopped  their  mouths. 
Returning  through  Brussels  we  came  down  to  Antwerp,  the 
paragon  of  cities ;  where  my  curiosity  to  see  a  solemn  procession 
on  St.  John  Baptist's  day  might  have  drawn  me  into  danger 
(through  my  willing  unreverence 8)  had  not  the  hulk  of  a  tall 
Brabanter,  behind  whom  1  stood  in  a  corner  of  a  street,  shadowed 

7  Baptism  or  churches.']  Compare  above,  Life  of  Whitgift,  vol.  iii.  pp.  618- 
621,  and  note. 

8  Willing  unreverence^]   When   Dr.  Edward   Pocock,  the  great  oriental 
scholar,  was  on  his  return  from  Constantinople,  in  the  year  1640,  during 
some  stay  which  he  made  at  Genoa,  there  was  (as  he  would  often  tell  his 
friends)  "  on  a  certain  day,  a  religious  procession,  which  went  through  the 
streets  with  all  the  ceremonial  pomp,  that  is  usual  on  such  occasions.     And 
as  he  stood  in  a  convenient  place,  to  take  a  view  of  it,  he  was  surprised 
with  the  discourse  of  some  persons,  at  a  little  distance,  who  talked  in  Arabic. 
They  were  a  couple  of  slaves  in  chains,  who  being  confident  that  nobody 
could  understand  the  language  they  spake  in,  expressed  their  opinions  of 
what  they  saw  with  all  manner  of  freedom.   And  as  they  rallied  the  pageantry 
they  beheld,  with  a  great  deal  of  wit,  so  from  it  they  took  occasion  to  ridicule 
Christianity  itself,  and  to  load  it  with  contempt.    So  unhappy  has  the  church 
of  Rome  been  in  her  practices  on  the  Christian  religion  :  for  whilst  to  serve 
some  worldly  designs,  she  hath  laboured  to  engage  the  minds  of  the  vulgar 
sort  by  empty  shows  and  superstitious  solemnities,  she  hath  by  those  corrupt 


me  from  notice.  Thence  down  the  fair  river  of  Scheld,  we  came 
to  Flushing,  where  upon  the  resolution  of  our  company  to  stay 
some  hours,  I  hasted  to  Middleburgh  to  see  an  ancient  college. 
That  visit  lost  me  my  passage  ;  ere  I  could  return,  I  might  see 
our  ship  under  sail  for  England.  The  master  had  with  the  wind 
altered  his  purpose,  and  called  aboard  with  such  eagerness,  that 
my  company  must  either  away,  or  undergo  the  hazard  of  too 
much  loss.  I  looked  long  after  them  in  vain,  and  sadly  returning 
to  Middleburgh  waited  long,  for  an  inconvenient  and  tempestuous 

After  some  year  and  half,  it  pleased  God  unexpectedly  to  con- 
trive the  change  of  my  station9.  My  means  were  but  short  at 
Halsted  ;  yet  such  as  I  often  professed,  if  my  then  patron  would 
have  added  but  one  ten  pounds  by  year,  (which  I  held  to  be  the 
value  of  my  detained  due)  I  should  never  have  removed.  One 
morning  as  I  lay  in  my  bed,  a  strong  motion  was  suddenly 
glanced  into  my  thoughts  of  going  to  London.  I  rose  and 
betook  me  to  the  way.  The  ground  that  appeared  of  that  pur- 
pose, was  to  speak  with  my  patron  sir  Robert  Drury,  if  by 
occasion  of  the  public  preachership  of  St.  Edmunds  Bury,  then 
offered  me  upon  good  conditions,  I  might  draw  him  to  a  willing 
yieldance  of  that  parcel  of  my  due  maintenance ',  which  was  kept 
back  from  my  not  over-deserving  predecessor.  Who  hearing  my 
errand  dissuaded  me  from  so  ungainful  a  change,  which  had  it 

additions,  exposed  what  is  infinitely  rational,  wise  and  good,  to  the  laughter 
and  reproach  of  infidels."  Twell's  Life  ofPocock,  p.  18,  prefixed  to  Pocock's 
Theological  Works,  vol.  i.  Compare  also  above,Lt/e  ofBilney,  vol.  ii.  p.  I7,note. 

9  The  change  of  my  station.']  See  Epistles,  Decad.  1.  Epist.  9.  "  I  conjecture 
he  did  not  much  reside  here  (at  Hawsted) ;  for  during  his  time  there  are  not 
above  two  years  in  the  register  of  the  same  hand.  While  he  did  reside,  he 
preached  three  times  a  week.  Till  within  a  few  years,  there  was  (as  I  am  in- 
formed by  a  gentleman  who  has  seen  it)  in  the  parsonage-house,  a  plate  of 
lead  with  his  motto,  Imum  nolo ;  Summum  nequeo ;  Quiesco.  Adopted,  I 
suppose,  when  he  first  settled  here,  and  expressive  of  a  mind,  not  totally 
unambitious,  yet  content :  and  it  is  probable,  if  his  situation  here  had  been 
comfortable,  he  would  have  lived  and  died  in  the  same  obscurity  with  his 
predecessors  and  successors  in  this  rectory."  Cullum's  History  of  Hawsted, 
1784,  p.  65. 

1  My  due  maintenance.]  "  Upon  his  return,  he  found  not  that  satisfaction 
which  he  expected  in  this  place ;  his  patron,  sir  Robert  Drury,  refusing  to 
restore  to  the  rectory  about  ten  pounds  a  year,  and  insisting,  as  tradition 
reports,  upon  his  acceptance  of  a  modus  for  the  herbage  of  the  park."  Cul- 
lum's  History  of  Hawsted,  p.  65. 


been  to  my  sensible  advantage,  he  should  have  readily  given  way 
unto,  but  not  offering  me  the  expected  encouragement  of  my  con- 
tinuance ;  with  him  I  stayed  and  preached  on  the  Sunday  fol- 
lowing. That  day  sir  Robert  Drury,  meeting  with  the  lord 
Denny 2,  fell  belike  into  the  commendation  of  my  sermon.  That 
religious  and  noble  lord  had  long  harboured  good  thoughts  con- 
cerning me,  upon  the  reading  of  those  poor  pamphlets  which  I 
had  formerly  published:  and  long  wished  the  opportunity  to 
know  me.  To  please  him  in  this  desire,  sir  Robert  willed  me 
to  go  and  tender  my  service  to  his  lordship,  which  I  modestly 
and  seriously  deprecated ;  yet  upon  his  earnest  charge  went  to 
his  lordship's  gate,  where  I  was  not  sorry  to  hear  of  his  absence. 
Being  now  full  of  cold  and  distemper  in  Drury-lane 3,  I  was 
found  out  by  a  friend,  in  whom  I  had  formerly  no  great  interest, 
one  Mr.  Gurrey 4,  tutor  to  the  earl  of  Essex.  He  told  me  how 
well  my  Meditations  were  accepted  at  the  prince's  court  (p. 
Henry)  ;  and  earnestly  advised  me  to  step  over  to  Richmond,  and 
preach  to  his  highness.  I  strongly  pleaded  my  indisposition 
of  body,  and  my  inpreparation  for  any  such  work,  together  with 
my  bashful  fears,  and  utter  unfitness  for  such  a  presence.  My 
averseness  doubled  his  importunity  ;  in  fine,  he  left  me  not  till 
he  had  my  engagement  to  preach  the  Sunday  following  at 
Richmond.  He  made  way  for  me  to  that  awful  pulpit,  and 
encouraged  me  by  the  favour  of  his  noble  lord  the  earl  of  Essex. 
I  preached :  through  the  favour  of  my  God,  that  sermon  was  not 
so  well  given  as  taken  ;  in  so  much  as  that  sweet  prince  signified 
his  desire  to  hear  me  again  the  Tuesday  following ;  which  done, 
that  labour  gave  more  contentment  than  the  former ;  so  as  that 
gracious  prince,  both  gave  me  his  hand  and  commanded  me  to 
his  service.  My  patron  seeing  me  (upon  my  return  to  London) 
looked  after  by  some  great  persons,  began  to  wish  me  at  home, 
and  told  me  that  some  or  other  would  be  snatching  me  up.  I 
answered  it  was  in  his  power  to  prevent.  Would  he  be  pleased 
to  make  my  maintenance  but  so  competent  as  in  right  it  should 
be,  I  would  never  stir  from  him.  Instead  of  condescending,  it 

"  Lord  Denny. .]  Sir  Edward  Denny  of  Waltham,  created  lord  Denny,  27th 
October,  1604,  and  earl  of  Norwich,  24th  October,  1626.  He  died  without 
issue,  in  1630. 

3  Drury-lane']  Where  was  the  town  house  of  the  Drury  family,  which  gave 
its  name  to  that  locality. 

1  Mr.  Gurrey.']  Thomas  Gurrey,  M.A.,  one  of  the  prebendaries  of  Wolver- 


pleased  him  to  fall  into  an  expostulation  of  the  rate  of  com- 
petencies, affirming  the  variableness  thereof  according  to  our  own 
estimation,  and  our  either  raising  or  moderating  the  causes  of 
our  expences.  I  showed  him  the  insufficiency  of  my  means : 
that  I  was  forced  to  write  books  to  buy  books :  shortly,  some 
harsh  and  unpleasing  answer  so  disheartened  me  that  I  resolved 
to  embrace  the  first  opportunity  of  my  remove. 

Now  whilst  I  was  taken  up  with  these  anxious  thoughts,  a 
messenger  (it  was  sir  Robert  Wingfield  of  Northampton's  son) 
came  to  me  from  the  lord  Denny,  (now  earl  of  Norwich)  my 
after  most  honourable  patron,  entreating  me  from  his  lordship  to 
speak  with  him.  No  sooner  came  I  thither,  than  after  a  glad 
and  noble  welcome,  I  was  entertained  with  the  earnest  offer  of 
Waltham.  The  conditions  were  like  the  mover  of  them,  free 
and  bountiful.  I  received  them,  as  from  the  munificent  hand  of 
my  God ;  and  returned  full  of  the  cheerful  acknowledgments  of 
a  gracious  providence  over  me.  Too  late  now  did  my  former 
noble  patron  relent,  and  offer  me  those  terms  which  had  before 
fastened  me  for  ever.  I  returned  home  happy  in  a  new  master, 
and  in  a  new  patron ;  betwixt  whom  I  divided  myself  and  my 
labours,  with  much  comfort  and  no  less  acceptation. 

In  the  second  year  of  mine  attendance  on  his  highness,  when 
I  came  for  my  dismission  from  that  monthly  service,  it  pleased 
the  prince  to  command  me  a  longer  stay:  and  at  last  mi  no 
allowed  departure,  by  the  mouth  of  sir  Thomas  Challonner,  his 
governor,  to  tender  unto  me  a  motion  of  more  honour  and  favour 
than  I  was  worthy  of;  which  was,  that  it  was  his  highness1  plea- 
sure and  purpose,  to  have  me  continually  resident  at  the  court  as 
a  constant  attendant,  whilst  the  rest  held  on  their  wonted  vicissi- 
tudes ;  for  which  purpose  his  highness  would  obtain  for  me  such 
preferments  as  should  yield  me  full  contentment.  I  returned  my 
humblest  thanks,  and  my  readiness  to  sacrifice  myself  to  the  ser- 
vice of  so  gracious  a  master 5,  but  being  conscious  to  myself  of  my 
unanswerableness  to  so  great  expectation,  and  loth  to  forsake  so 
dear  and  noble  a  patron,  who  had  placed  much  of  his  heart  upon 
me,  I  did  modestly  put  it  off,  and  held  close  to  my  \Valtham  ; 
where  in  a  constant  course  I  preached  a  long  time,  (as  I  had  done 
also  at  Halstead  before)  thrice  in  the  week  ;  yet  never  durst  I 
climb  into  the  pulpit,  to  preach  any  sermon,  whereof  I  had  not 
before  in  my  poor  and  plain  fashion,  pen n- d  <  very  word  in  tin- 
5  So  yracious  a  master.]  Prince  Henry  died  (*«th  November,  1612. 


same  order  wherein  I  hoped  to  deliver  it,  although  in  the  expres- 
sion I  listed  not  to  be  a  slave  to  syllables. 

In  this  while  my  worthy  kinsman,  Mr.  Samuel  Burton,  arch- 
deacon of  Glocester,  knowing  in  how  good  terms  I  stood  at  court, 
and  pitying  the  miserable  condition  of  his  native  church  of  Wol- 
verhampton,  was  very  desirous  to  engage  me  in  so  difficult  and 
noble  a  service  as  the  redemption  of  that  captivated  church.  For 
which  cause  he  importuned  me  to  move  some  of  my  friends,  to 
solicit  the  dean  of  Windsor 6,  (who  by  an  ancient  annexation 7  is 
patron  thereof,)  for  the  grant  of  a  particular  prebend,  when  it 
should  fall  vacant  in  that  church.  Answer  was  returned  me, 
that  it  was  fore  promised  to  one  of  my  fellow  chaplains.  I  sate 
down  without  further  expectation.  Some  year  or  two  after, 
hearing  that  it  was  become  void,  and  meeting  with  that  fellow 
chaplain  of  mine ;  I  wished  him  much  joy  of  the  prebend.  He 
asked  me  if  it  were  void  :  I  assured  him  so ;  and  telling  him  of 
the  former  answer  delivered  to  me  in  my  ignorance  of  his  engage- 
ment, wished  him  to  hasten  his  possession  of  it.  He  delayed  not. 
When  he  came  to  the  dean  of  Windsor,  for  his  promised  dis- 

(i  Dean  of  Windsor]  Most  probably  Anthony  Maxey,  who  was  dean  from 
1612  to  1618.  His  predecessor  was  Giles  Thompson,  who  had  been  appointed 
in  1602. 

7  An  ancient  annexation.]  The  deanery  of  Wolverhampton  is  one  of  the  most 
ancient  ecclesiastical  foundations  in  England,  dating  from  996.  It  was  con- 
firmed by  successive  sovereigns.  Edward  II.  granted  to  many  of  his  free 
chapels,  amongst  which  this  of  Wolverhampton  is  named,  exemption  from 
all  ordinary  jurisdiction,  with  many  other  privileges.  In  1479,  Edward  IV. 
annexed  the  college,  or  free  chapel,  of  Wolverhampton  to  the  chapel  of  Wind- 
sor, so  that  the  dean  of  St.  George's,  at  Windsor,  should  be  dean  of  the  free 
chapel  of  Wolverhampton  and  prebendary  of  the  first  prebend.  This  grant 
was  confirmed  by  act  of  parliament. 

When,  in  the  first  year  of  Edward  VI.,  collegiate  churches,  free  chapels,  &c., 
were  dissolved,  the  chapel  of  St.  George,  at  Windsor,  was  excepted,  but  that 
of  Wolverhampton  was  seized  by  the  crown.  On  the  2nd  of  March,  1553, 
shortly  before  his  death,  Edward  VI.  granted  it  to  John  Dudley,  duke  of 
Northumberland,  who  was  attainted  in  the  same  year,  and  by  queen  Mary  it 
was  again  annexed  to  St.  George's  chapel,  at  Windsor.  This  annexation  was 
confirmed  by  Elizabeth,  and  also  by  James  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  his 
reign,  when  De  Dominis  was  dean.  In  the  eighth  of  Henry  VIII.,  the 
manor  and  lordship  of  Wolverhampton  were  leased  by  the  then  dean,  John 
Harman  (or  Vessey),  to  Richard  Wrottesley,  Esq.,  and  James  Leveson,  gent., 
at  the  rent  of  38/.,  and  it  has  ever  since  been  leased  at  the  same  rate.  In 
1801,  sir  William  Pulteney  was  the  lessee,  and  the  lease  now  belongs  to  his 
heirs.  Until  the  late  act  for  abolishing  peculiars,  the  collegiate  church  was 
subject  to  no  power  but  that  of  the  sovereign,  and,  under  it,  to  the  perpetual 
visitation  of  the  keeper  of  the  great  seal. 


patch,  the  dean  brought  him  forth  a  letter  from  the  prince, 
wherein  he  was  desired,  and  charged  to  reverse  his  former  engage- 
ment (since  that  other  chaplain  was  otherwise  provided  for)  and 
to  cast  that  favour  upon  me.  I  was  sent  for,  (who  least  thought 
of  it)  and  received  the  free  collation  of  that  poor  dignity.  It  was 
not  the  value  of  the  place,  (which  was  but  nineteen  nobles  per 
annum)  that  we  aimed  at,  but  the  freedom  of  a  goodly  church, 
(consisting  of  a  dean  and  eight  prebendaries  competently  endowed) 
and  many  thousand  souls  lamentably  swallowed  up  by  wilful 
recusants,  in  a  pretended  fee-farm8  for  ever, — O  God,  what  an 
hand  hadst  thou  in  the  carriage  of  this  work  !  when  we  set  foot 
in  this  suit  (for  another  of  the  prebendaries  joined  with  me)  we 
knew  not  wherein  to  insist,  nor  where  to  ground  a  complaint, 
only  we  knew  that  a  goodly  patrimony  was  by  sacrilegious  con- 
veyance detained  from  the  church.  But  in  the  pursuit  of  it  such 
marvellous  light  opened  itself  unexpectedly  to  us,  in  revealing  of 
a  counterfeit  zeal,  found  in  the  ashes  of  that  burned  house  of  a 
false  register ;  in  the  manifestation  of  rasures,  and  interpolations, 
and  misdates  of  unjustifiable  evidences,  that  after  many  years  suit, 
the  wise  and  honourable  lord  chancellor  Ellesmere 9  upon  a  full 
hearing,  adjudged  these  two  sued-for  prebends,  clearly  to  be 
returned  to  the  church,  untill  by  common  law,  they  could  (if  pos- 
sibly) be  revicted.  Our  great  adversary  sir  Walter  Leveson 10, 

8  A  pretended  fee-farm."]  "  The  farming  of  benefices  was  the  ordinary  prac- 
tice in  those  days,"  (Henry  VIII.)    ("  see  Fox,  Acts,  &c.  vol.  iii.  p.  167,)  and 
must  not  be  confounded  with  fee-farming,  which  seems  to  have  crept  in 
shortly  afterwards.     The  latter  system  is  explained  to  have  been  a  permanent 
arrangement,  or  commutation,  and  was  bitterly  inveighed  against  by  Latimer. 
This  plain-spoken  preacher  did  not  scruple  to  ascribe  it  to  the  machinations 
of  Satan,  '  What  an  unreasonable  devil  is  this  ?     He  provides  a  great  while 
beforehand  for  the  time  that  is  to  come.     He  hath  brought  up  now  of  late 
the  most  monstrous  kind  of  covetousness  that  ever  was  heard  of.     He  hath 
in  vented  fee-farming  of  benefices;  and  all  to  decay  this  office  of  preaching  ; 
insomuch  that  when  any  man  hereafter  shall  have  a  benefice,  he  may  go 
where  he  will  for  any  house  he  shall  have  to  dwell  upon,  or  any  glebe  land  to 
keep  hospitality  withal ;  but  he  must  take  up  a  chamber  in  an  ale-house,  and 
there  sit  to  play  at  tables  all  the  day. — A  goodly  curate  ! "      Sixth  Sermon 
before  king  Edward  VI.  1549.     Cranmer's  Rtmaina,  ed.  Jenkyns,  i.  57,  note. 

9  Lord  chancellor  Ellesmere.]  It  may  be  remarked  here,  that  this  judge's 
family  is  now  merged  in  that  of  the  defendant,  against  whom  bishop  Hall 
makes  such  strong  charges  :  Lord  Ellesmere's  very  title  is  now  revived  in  the 
person  of  a  lineal  descendant  of  sir  Walter  Leveson. 

10  Sir  Walter  Leveson.']  In  the  twelfth  year  of  his  reign,  James  I.  granted 
the  fee  of  the  hundred  of  Seiston,  in  Staffordshire,  to  sir  Walter  Leveson,  knt. 


finding  it  but  loss  and  trouble  to  struggle  for  litigious  sheaves, 
came  off  to  a  peaceable  composition  with  me  of  40£.  per  annum 
for  my  part,  whereof  ten  should  be  to  the  discharge  of  my  stall 
in  that  church,  till  the  suit  should  by  course  of  common  law  be 
determined.  We  agreed  upon  fair  wars.  The  cause  was  heard 
at  the  king's  bench  barr :  when  a  special  verdict  was  given  for 
us.  Upon  the  death  of  my  partner  in  the  suit,  (in  whose  name 
it  had  now  been  brought)  it  was  renewed  ;  a  jury  empannelled 
in  the  county ;  the  foreman  (who  had  vowed  he  would  carry  it 
for  sir  Walter  Leveson  howsoever)  was  before  the  day,  stricken 
mad,  and  so  continued  ;  we  proceeded  with  the  same  success  we 
formerly  had  ;  whilst  we  were  thus  striving,  a  word  fell  from  my 
adversary,  that  gave  me  intimation,  that  a  third  dog  would  per- 
haps come  in,  and  take  the  bone  from  us  both ;  which  I  finding 
to  drive  at  a  supposed  concealment  *,  happily  prevented,  for  I 

The  family  of  Leveson  had  acquired,  at  Wolverhampton,  great  riches  by  the 
wool  trade,  then  called  the  staple,  and  the  dealers  in  it  merchants.  At  the 
Reformation  church  lands  were  sold  at  a  small  price,  and  the  title  being  then 
precarious,  few  persons  were  willing  to  become  purchasers ;  but  the  family  of 
Leveson,  having  money  and  wishing  well  to  the  Reformation,  bought  many 
of  these  lands,  as  Trentham,  Lillishul,  &c.  In  queen  Anne's  time,  a  part  of 
the  estates  was  sold  by  another  Walter  Leveson,  to  Newport,  earl  of  Bradford, 
which  part  afterwards  passed  to  the  Pulteney  family.  One  of  the  Gowers  of 
Stittenham,  in  Yorkshire,  married  the  heiress  of  the  elder  branch  of  the 
Levesons,  took  the  name,  and  seated  himself  at  Trentham ;  from  him  the 
property  has  passed  to  his  descendant,  the  present  duke  of  Sutherland. 

1  A  supposed  concealment^]  "When  monasteries  were  dissolved,  and  the 
lands  thereof,  and  afterwards  colleges,  chaunteries  and  fraternities  were  all 
given  to  the  crown,  some  demesnes  here  and  there  pertaining  thereunto, 
were  still  privily  retained,  and  possessed  by  certain  private  persons,  or  corpo- 
rations, or  churches.  This  caused  the  queen  (Elizabeth]  when  she  under- 
stood it,  to  grant  commissions  to  some  persons  to  search  after  these  conceal- 
ments, and  to  retrieve  them  to  the  crown.  But  it  was  a  world  to  consider, 
what  unjust  oppressions  of  the  people,  and  the  poor,  this  occasioned  by 
some  griping  men  that  were  concerned  therein.  For  under  the  pretence  of 
executing  commissions  for  inquiry  to  be  made  for  these  lands  concealed,  they, 
by  colour  thereof,  and  without  colour  of  commission,  contrary  to  all  right, 
and  to  the  queen's  meaning  and  intent,  did  intermeddle  and  challenge  lands 
of  long  time  possessed  by  church  wardens,  and  such-like,  upon  the  cha- 
ritable gifts  of  predecessors,  to  the  common  benefit  of  the  parishes  .... 
Further  they  attempted  to  make  titles  to  lands,  possessions,  plate,  and  goods, 
belonging  to  hospitals,  and  such-like  places,  used  for  maintenance  of  poor 
people  ;  with  many  such  other  unlawful  attempts  and  extortions."  Strype's 
Annals  of  the  Reformation,  vol.  ii.  p.  209.  See  also  Strype's  Life  of  Parker, 
p.  368,  69.  405.  489. 

VOL. IV.  U 


presently  addressed  myself  to  his  majesty,  with  a  petition  for  the 
renewing  the  charter  of  that  church  ;  and  the  full  establishment 
of  the  lands,  rights,  liberties,  thereto  belonging :  which  I  easily 
obtained  from  those  gracious  hands.  Now  sir  Walter  Leveson, 
seeing  the  patrimony  of  the  church  so  fast  and  safely  settled :  and 
misdoubting  what  issue  those  his  crazy  evidences  would  find  at 
the  common  law,  began  to  incline  to  offers  of  peace,  and  at  last 
drew  him  so  far,  as  that  he  yielded  to  those  too  many  conditions, 
not  particularly  for  myself,  but  for  the  whole  body  of  all  those 
prebends  which  pertained  to  the  church ;  first  that  he  would  be 
content  to  cast  up  that  fee-farm,  which  he  had  of  all  the  patri- 
mony of  that  church,  and  disclaiming  it,  receive  that  which  he 
held  of  the  said  church  by  lease,  from  us  the  several  prebendaries, 
for  term,  whether  of  years,  or  (which  he  rather  desired)  of  lives. 
Secondly,  that  he  would  raise  the  maintenance  of  every  prebend, 
(whereof  some  were  but  forty  shillings,  others  three  pounds, 
others  four,  &c.)  to  the  yearly  value  of  thirty  pounds  to  each 
man,  during  the  said  term  of  his  lease :  only  for  a  monument  of 
my  labour  and  success  herein,  I  required  that  my  prebend  might 
have  the  addition  of  ten  pounds  per  annum,  above  the  fellows. 
We  were  busily  treating  this  happy  match  for  that  poor  church ; 
sir  Walter  Leveson  was  not  only  willing  but  forward ;  the  then 
dean  Mr.  Antonius  de  Dominis2,  archbishop  of  Spalata,  gave  both 
way  and  furtherance  to  the  dispatch ;  all  had  been  most  happily 
ended,  had  not  the  scrupulousness  of  one  or  two  of  the  number, 
deferred  so  advantageous  a  conclusion.  In  the  mean  while  sir 
Walter  Leveson  dies,  leaves  his  young  orphan  ward  to  the  king ; 
all  our  hopes  were  now  blown  up  :  an  office  was  found  of  all  those 
lands ;  the  very  wonted  payments  were  denied,  and  I  called  into 
the  court  of  wards,  in  fair  likelihood  to  forego  my  former  hold, 
and  yielded  possession  :  but  there,  it  was  justly  awarded  by  the 
lord  treasurer,  then  master  of  the  wards,  that  the  orphan  could 
have  no  more,  no  other  right  than  the  father.  I  was  therefore 
left  in  my  former  state,  only  upon  public  complaint  of  the  hard 
condition  wherein  the  orphan  was  left,  I  suffered  myself  to  be 
over-intreated,  to  abate  somewhat  of  that  evicted  composition  ; 
which  work  having  once  firmly  settled,  in  a  just  pity  of  the  mean 
provision,  if  not  the  destitution  of  so  many  thousand  souls,  and  a 

2  De  Dominis.]  See  p.  93,  ante.     He  was  dean  of  Windsor  from  1618  to 


desire,  and  care,  to  have  them  comfortably  provided  for  in  the 
future,  I  resigned  up  the  said  prebend  to  a  worthy  preacher, 
Mr.  Lee,  who  should  constantly  reside  there,  and  painfully 
instruct  that  great  and  long  neglected  people ;  which  he  hath 
hitherto  performed  with  great  mutual  contentment  and  happy 

Now  during  this  22  years  which  I  spent 3  at  Waltham  ;  thrice 

3  Which  I  spent.]  To  this  period  we  may  apply  an  interesting  account 
given  of  his  manner  of  spending  his  time,  in  a  letter  to  his  patron,  lord 

"Every  day  is  a  little  life;  and  our  whole  life  is  but  a  day  repeated: 
whence  it  is,  that  old  Jacob  numbers  his  life  by  days  ;  and  Moses  desires  to 
be  taught  this  point  of  holy  arithmetic,  '  to  number '  not  his  years,  but 
'  his  days.'  Those  therefore  that  dare  lose  a  day,  are  dangerously  prodigal ; 
those  that  dare  mispend  it,  desperate.  We  can  teach  others  by  ourselves  : 
let  me  tell  your  lordship  how  I  would  pass  my  days,  whether  common  or 
sacred;  and  that  you,  or  whosoever  others,  overhearing  me,  may  either 
approve  my  thriftiness,  or  correct  my  errors. 

"  When  sleep  is  rather  driven  away  than  leaves  me,  I  would  ever  awake 
with  God.  My  first  thoughts  are  for  him  :  if  my  heart  be  early  seasoned 
with  his  presence,  it  will  savour  of  him  all  day  after.  While  my  body  is 
dressing,  not  with  an  effeminate  curiosity,  nor  yet  with  rude  neglect,  my 
mind  addresses  itself  to  her  ensuing  task,  bethinking  what  is  to  be  done,  and 
in  what  order  ;  and  marshalling,  as  it  may,  my  hours  with  my  work.  That 
done,  after  some  meditation,  I  walk  up  to  my  masters  and  companions, — my 
books  ;  and  sitting  down  amongst  them,  with  the  best  contentment,  I  dare 
not  reach  forth  my  hand  to  salute  any  of  them  till  I  have  first  looked  up  to 
heaven,  and  craved  favour  of  him,  to  whom  all  my  studies  are  duly  referred ; 
without  whom,  I  can  neither  profit  nor  labour.  After  this,  out  of  no  over 
great  variety,  I  cull  forth  those,  which  may  best  fit  my  occasions :  wherein 
I  am  not  too  scrupulous  of  age.  Sometimes  I  put  myself  to  school  to  one 
of  those  ancients,  whom  the  church  hath  honoured  with  the  name  of  Fathers; 
whose  volumes,  I  confess  not  to  open,  without  a  secret  reverence  of  their 
holiness  and  sanctity :  sometimes,  to  those  later  doctors,  which  want  nothing 
but  age  to  make  them  classical :  always,  to  God's  Book.  That  day  is  lost, 
whereof  some  hours  are  not  improved  in  those  divine  monuments.  Others  I 
turn  over,  out  of  choice  ;  these  out  of  duty.  Ere  I  can  have  sat  unto  weari- 
ness, my  family,  having  now  overcome  all  household  distractions,  invites 
me  to  our  common  devotions ;  not  without  some  short  preparation.  These 
heartily  performed,  send  me  up  with  a  more  strong  and  cheerful  appetite 
to  my  former  work,  which  I  find  made  easy  to  me  by  intermission  and 
variety.  One  while  mine  eyes  are  busy;  another  while  my  hand;  and  some- 
times my  mind  takes  the  burthen  from  them  both.  One  hour  is  spent 
in  textual  divinity;  another  in  controversy;  histories  relieve  them  both. 
When  the  mind  is  weary  of  others'  labours,  it  begins  to  undertake  her  own. 

u  2 


was  I  commanded  and  employed  abroad  by  his  majesty  in  public 

First  in  the  attendance  of  the  right  honourable  earl  of  Carlile4, 
(then  lord  viscount  Doncaster)  who  was  sent  upon  a  noble 
embassy 5,  with  a  gallant  retinue  into  France  ;  whose  entertain- 
ment there,  the  annals  of  that  nation  will  tell  to  posterity.  In  the 
midst  of  that  service  was  I  surprized  with  a  miserable  distemper 
of  body ;  which  ended  in  a  diarrhoea  biliosa,  not  without  some 
beginnings  and  further  threats  of  a  dissentery  :  wherewith  I  was 
brought  so  low,  that  there  seemed  small  hope  of  my  recovery. 

Sometimes  it  meditates  and  winds  up  for  future  use ;  sometimes  it  lays  forth 
her  conceits  into  present  discourse:  sometimes  for  itself,  often  for  others. 
Neither  know  I  whether  it  works  or  plays  in  these  thoughts.  I  am  sure 
no  sport  hath  more  pleasure  ;  no  work  more  use  :  only  the  decay  of  a  weak 
body  makes  me  think  these  delights  insensibly  laborious.  Before  my  meals 
and  after,  I  let  myself  loose  from  all  thoughts,  and  would  forget  that  I  ever 
studied.  Company,  discourse,  recreations,  are  now  seasonable  and  welcome. 
I  rise  not  immediately  from  my  trencher  to  my  book,  but  after  some  inter- 
mission. After  my  later  meal,  my  thoughts  are  slight ;  only  my  memory 
may  be  charged  with  the  task  of  recalling  what  was  committed  to  her 
custody  in  the  day ;  and  my  heart  is  busy  in  examining  my  hands  and  mouth, 
and  all  other  senses,  of  that  day's  behaviour.  The  evening  is  come  :  no 
tradesman  doth  more  carefully  take  in  his  wares,  clear  his  shop-board,  and 
shut  his  windows,  than  I  would  shut  up  my  thoughts,  and  clear  my  mind. 
That  student  shall  live  miserably,  which,  like  a  camel,  lies  down  under  his 
burthen.  All  this  done,  calling  together  my  family,  we  end  the  day  with 
God. — Such  are  only  common  days. 

"  But  God's  day  calls  for  another  respect.  The  same  sun  arises  on  this  day, 
and  enlightens  it :  yet  because  that  Sun  of  Righteousness  arose  upon  it,  and 
gave  a  new  life  unto  the  world  in  it,  and  drew  the  strength  of  God's  moral 
precept  into  it ;  therefore,  justly  do  we  sing  with  the  psalmist,  This  is  the  day 
which  the  Lord  hath  made.  Now,  I  forget  the  world,  and  in  a  sort,  myself: 
and  deal,  with  my  wonted  thoughts,  as  great  men  use,  who,  at  some  times  of 
their  privacy,  forbid  the  access  of  all  suitors.  Prayer,  meditation,  reading, 
hearing,  preaching,  singing,  good  conference,  are  the  businesses  of  this  day ; 
which  I  dare  not  bestow  on  any  work  or  pleasure,  but  heavenly;  I  hate 
superstition  on  the  one  side,  and  looseness  on  the  other :  but  I  find  it  hard  to 
offend  in  too  much  devotion :  easy,  in  profaneness.  The  whole  week  is 
sanctified  by  this  day :  and  according  to  my  care  of  this,  is  my  blessing  on 
the  rest."  Works,  vol.  vii.  p.  254—6. 

4  Earl  of  Carlile.']  James  Hay.  He  was  grandson  of  Hall's  patron,  the 
earl  of  Norwich,  to  whose  barony  of  Denny  he  succeeded  in  1630.  This 
relationship  accounts  for  Lord  Carlisle's  patronage  of  Hall. 

'  A  noble  embassy.']  To  congratulate  Louis  XIII.  on  his  marriage  with 
Anne  of  Austria. 


Mr.  Peter  Moulin 6  (to  whom  I  was  beholden  for  his  frequent  visi- 
tations) being  sent  by  my  lord  ambassador,  to  inform  him  of  my 
estate,  brought  him  so  sad  news  thereof,  as  that  he  was  much 
afflicted  therewith,  well  supposing  his  welcome  to  Waltham  could 
not  but  want  much  of  the  heart  without  me.  Now  the  time  of 
his  return  drew  on,  Dr.  Moulin  kindly  offered  to  remove  me, 
upon  his  lordship's  departure,  to  his  own  house,  promising  me  all 
careful  attendance.  I  thanked  him,  but  resolved,  if  I  could  but 
creep  homewards  to  put  myself  upon  the  journey.  A  litter  was 
provided,  but  of  so  little  ease,  that  Simeon's  penitential  lodging, 
or  a  malefactor's  stocks,  had  been  less  penal.  I  crawled  down 
from  my  close  chamber  into  that  carriage,  In  qua  mdebaris  mi/ii 
efferri,  tanquam  in  sandapila,  as  Mr.  Moulin  wrote  to  me  after- 
ward ;  that  misery  had  I  endured  in  all  the  long  passage  from 
Paris  to  Dieppe,  being  left  alone  to  the  surly  muleteers,  had  not 
the  providence  of  my  good  God  brought  me  to  St.  Germains, 
upon  the  very  setting  out  of  those  coaches,  which  had  stayed 
there  upon  that  morning's  entertainment  of  my  lord  ambassador. 
How  glad  was  I  that  I  might  change  my  seat,  and  my  company. 
In  the  way,  beyond  all  expectation,  I  began  to  gather  some 
strength ;  whether  the  fresh  air,  or  the  desires  of  my  home 
revived  me,  so  much,  and  so  sudden  reparation  ensued,  as  was 
sensible  to  myself,  and  seemed  strange  to  others.  Being  shipped 
at  Dieppe  the  sea  used  us  hardly,  and  after  a  night,  and  a  great 
part  of  the  day  following,  sent  us  back  well  wind-beaten,  to  that 
bleak  haven  whence  we  set  forth,  forcing  us  to  a  more  pleasing 
land  passage,  through  the  coasts  of  Normandy  and  Picardy; 
towards  the  end  whereof,  my  former  complaint  returned  upon  me, 
and  landing  with  me,  accompanied  me  to,  and  at  my  long  desired 
home.  In  this  my  absence  it  pleased  his  majesty,  graciously,  to 
confer  upon  me  the  deanry  of  Worcester 7,  which  being  promised 
to  me  before  my  departure,  was  deeply  hazarded  whilst  I  was  out 
of  sight,  by  the  importunity  and  underhand  working  of  some 
great  ones.  Dr.  Field8,  the  learned  and  worthy  dean  of  Glocester, 
was  by  his  potent  friends  put  into  such  assurances  of  it,  that  I 

6  Peter  Moulin.']  Pierre  du  Moulin,  the  elder. 

7  Deanry  of  Worcester.']  In  the  year  16 16.     Le  Neve's  Fasti,  p.  310. 

8  Dr.  Field.']  Richard  Field,  appointed  dean  of  Gloucester  in  1609.     He 
died  21st  November,  1616.     It  is  sufficient  to  name  his  celebrated  work  "  Of 
the  Church,  four  books."  Fuller  calls  him  "  that  learned  divine,  whose  memory 
smelleth  like  a  Field  the  Lord  hath  blessed."     See  p.  101,  ante. 


heard  where  he  took  care  for  the  furnishing  that  ample  house. 
But  God  fetched  it  about  for  me,  in  that  absence  and  nescience 
of  mine  ;  and  that  reverend,  and  better  deserving  divine,  was  well 
satisfied  with  greater  hopes ;  and  soon  after  exchanged  this 
mortal  estate,  for  an  immortal  and  glorious. 

Before  I  could  go  down  through  my  continuing  weakness,  to 
take  possession  of  that  dignity,  his  majesty  pleased  to  design  me 
to  his  attendance  into  Scotland 9 ;  where  the  great  love,  and  re- 
spect that  I  found,  both  from  the  ministers  and  people,  wrought 
me  no  small  envy,  from  some  of  our  own.  Upon  a  commonly 
received  supposition,  that  his  majesty  would  have  no  further  use 
of  his  chaplains,  after  his  remove  from  Edinborough,  (for  as 
much  as  the  divines  of  the  country,  whereof  there  is  great  store 
and  worthy  choice,  were  allotted  to  every  station)  I  easily  ob- 
tained, through  the  solicitation  of  my  ever  honoured  lord  of  Car- 
lile,  to  return  with  him  before  my  fellows.  No  sooner  was  I  gone, 
than  suggestions  were  made  to  his  majesty  of  my  over  plausible 
demeanour  and  doctrine  to  that  already  prejudicate  people,  for 
which  his  majesty,  after  a  gracious  acknowledgment  of  my  good 
service  there  done,  called  me  upon  his  return  to  a  favourable  and 
mild  account ;  not  more  freely  professing  what  informations  had 
been  given  against  me,  than  his  own  full  satisfaction,  with  my 
sincere  and  just  answer;  as  whose  excellent  wisdom  well  saw 
that  such  winning  carriage  of  mine  could  be  no  hinderance  to 
those  his  great  designs.  At  the  same  time  his  majesty  having 
secret  notice,  that  a  letter  was  coming  to  me  from  Mr.  W. 
Struther,  a  reverend  and  learned  divine  of  Edinborough,  con- 
cerning the  five  points  *,  then  proposed,  and  urged  to  the  church 
of  Scotland,  was  pleased  to  impose  upon  me  an  earnest  charge, 
to  give  him  a  full  answer  in  satisfaction  to  those  his  modest 
doubts  ;  and  at  large  to  declare  my  judgment  concerning  those 
required  observations,  which  I  speedily  performed  with  so  great 

9  Into  Scotland.]  See  Heylin's  Life  of  Archbishop  Laud,  p.  73—5,  78—9. 

1  The  Jive  points.']  "  Afterwards  called  the  five  Articles  of  Perth.  The 
articles  at  large  are  to  be  found  in  the  histories  of  those  times :  but  in 
short  they  contained  (I)  the  kneeling  at  the  communion;  (2)  private  com- 
munion at  sick  people's  request;  (3)  private  Baptism;  (4)  confirmation  of 
children;  (5)  observation  of  festivals."  Memoirs  of  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
p.  162,  A.D.  1717.  See  also  Spotswood's  Hist,  of  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
fol.  539.  Heylin's  Life  of  Laud,  p.  78.  The  king's  design  in  these  mea- 
sures was  to  bring  the  church  of  Scotland  to  a  nearer  conformity  with  that  of 


approbation  of  his  majesty,  that  it  pleased  him  to  command  a 
transcript  thereof,  as  I  was  informed,  publicly  to  be  read  in  their 
most  famous  university :  the  effect  whereof  his  majesty  vouch- 
safed to  signifie  afterwards  unto  some  of  my  best  friends,  with 
allowance  beyond  my  hopes. 

It  was  not  long  after,  that  his  majesty  finding  the  exigence  of 
the  affairs  of  the  Netherlandish  churches  to  require  it,  both 
advised  them  to  a  synodical  decision,  and  by  his  incomparable 
wisdom  promoted  the  work.  My  unworthiness  was  named  for 
one  of  the  assistants  of  that  honourable  grave  and  reverend 
meeting,  where  I  failed  not  of  my  best  service  to  that  woefully 
distracted  church.  By  that  time  I  had  stayed  some  two  months 
there,  the  unquietness  of  the  nights,  in  those  garrison  towns, 
working  upon  the  tender  disposition  of  my  body,  brought  me  to 
such  weakness  through  want  of  rest,  that  it  began  to  disable  me 
from  attending  the  synod,  which  yet  as  I  might,  I  forced  myself 
unto  as  wishing  that  my  zeal  could  have  discountenanced  my 
infirmity  ;  wherein  the  mean  time,  it  is  well  worthy  of  my  thank- 
ful remembrance,  that  being  in  an  afflicted  and  languishing  con- 
dition, for  a  fortnight  together  with  that  sleepless  distemper,  yet 
it  pleased  God,  the  very  night  before  I  was  to  preach  the  Latin 
sermon 2  to  the  synod  to  bestow  upon  me  such  a  comfortable 
refreshing  of  sufficient  sleep,  as  whereby  my  spirits  were  revived, 
and  I  was  enabled  with  much  vigour  and  vivacity  to  perform  that 
service ;  which  was  no  sooner  done  than  my  former  complaint 
renewed  upon  me,  and  prevailed  against  all  the  remedies  that  the 
counsel  of  physicians  could  advise  me  unto ;  so  as  after  long 
strife,  I  was  compelled  to  yield  unto  a  retirement  (for  the  time) 
to  the  Hague,  to  see  if  change  of  place  and  more  careful  attend- 
ance, which  I  had  in  the  house  of  our  right  honourable  ambassa- 

2  The  Latin  sermon.']  See  Kale's  Golden  Remains,  p.  381,  &c.  The  best 
account  of  the  proceedings  of  this  far-famed  synod  of  Dort  may  be  found 
in  the  letters  of  the  ever-memorable  John  Hales  of  Eton  College,  printed  in 
his  Golden  Remains.  See  particularly  the  Latin  edition  of  those  letters, 
published  by  Mosheim  at  Hamburgh,  A.D.  1724.  The  Canons  of  this  synod 
are  inserted  in  the  Corpus  et  Syntagma  Confessionum ;  and  the  Acta  were 
printed  at  Leyden  1620  in  fol. :  see  also  Limborch's  Life  of  Episcopius, 
Fuller's  Church  Hist,  book  10,  p.  77—86.  Heylin's  Life  of  Laud,  p.  79,  &c. 
Heylin's  Hist,  of  the  Presbyterians,  p.  401,  &c.  Hickman's  Animadversions 
on  Dr.  Heylin,  p.  405 — 22.  The  magnificent  copy  of  the  Acta  Synodi  Dor- 
drechtensis  which  belonged  to  James  I.,  bound  in  crimson  velvet,  embroidered 
in  gold,  is  now  preserved  in  the  old  Royal  Library  in  the  British  Museum. 


dor,  the  lord  Carleton 3  (now  viscount  Dorchester)  might  recover 
me.  But  when  notwithstanding  all  means,  my  weakness  increased 
so  far,  as  that  there  was  small  likelihood  left  of  so  much  strength 
remaining,  as  might  bring  me  back  into  England,  it  pleased  his 
gracious  majesty  by  our  noble  ambassador's  solicitation,  to  call 
me  off,  and  to  substitute  a  worthy  divine  Mr.  Dr.  Goade  *  in  my 
unwillingly  forsaken  room.  Returning  by  Dort,  I  sent  in  my  sad 
farewel  to  that  grave  assembly,  who  by  common  vote  sent  to  me 
the  president  of  the  synod,  and  the  assistants,  with  a  respective 
and  gracious  valediction ;  neither  did  the  deputies  of  my  lords 
the  states  neglect  (after  a  very  respectful  compliment  sent  from 
them  to  me  by  Daniel  Heinsius)  to  visit  me ;  and  after  a  noble 
acknowledgment  of  more  good  service  from  me  than  I  durst  own, 
dismissed  me  with  an  honourable  retribution,  and  sent  after  me  a 
rich  medal  of  gold,  the  portraiture  of  the  synod,  for  a  precious 
monument  of  their  respects  to  my  poor  endeavours,  who  failed 
not  whilest  I  was  at  the  Hague,  to  impart  unto  them  my  poor 
advice  concerning  the  proceeding  of  that  synodical  meeting. 
The  difficulties  of  my  return  in  such  weakness  were  many  and 
great;  wherein,  if  ever,  God  manifested  his  special  providence 
to  me,  in  over-ruling  the  cross  accidents  of  that  passage,  and  after 
many  dangers  and  despairs,  contriving  my  safe  arrival. 

After  not  many  years  settling  at  home,  it  grieved  my  soul,  to 
see  our  own  church  begin  to  sicken  *  of  the  same  disease  which 
we  had  endeavoured  to  cure  in  our  neighbours.  Mr.  Montague's  * 
tart  and  vehement  assertions  of  some  positions,  near  of  kin  to 
the  Remonstrants  of  Netherland,  gave  occasion  of  raising  no 
small  broil  in  the  church.  Sides  were  taken,  pulpits  every  where 
rang  of  these  opinions ;  but  parliament  took  notice  of  the  divi- 
sion, and  questioned  the  occasioner.  Now  as  one  that  desired  to 

8  Lord  Carleton.']  Sir  Dudley  Carlton,  created  lord  Carlton  in  1628;  vis- 
count Dorchester,  25th  July,  1628.  He  died  in  1631. 

4  Mr.  Dr.  Goade.'}  Thomas  Goad,  S.T.P.,  chantor  of  St.  Paul's  in  London, 
prebendary  of  Hilton,  in  the  collegiate  church  of  Wolverhampton,  and  chap- 
lain to  archbishop  Abbot. 

*  Begin  to  sicken.']    See  Fuller's  Church  History,  book  10,  p.  119,  &c. 
Heylin's  Life  of  Laud,  p.  124 — 7.     Also  bishop  Hall's  Way  of  Peace  in  the 

five  busy  Articles  of  Arminius.     Parliamentary  Hist.  6,  7. 

*  Mr.  Montague's.]    Richard  Mountague,  or  Montagu,  who  was  not  con- 
nected with  the  noble  family  of  that  name,  was  the  son  of  Laurence  Mon- 
tague, minister  of  Dorney,  in  Buckinghamshire :  he  was  bishop  successively 
of  Chichester  in  1628,  and  of  Norwich  in  1638.     He  died  in  164 1. 


do  all  good  offices  to  our  dear  and  common  mother,  I  set  my 
thoughts  on  work,  how  so  dangerous  a  quarrel  might  be  happily 
composed ;  and  finding  that  mis-taking  was  more  guilty  of  this 
dissention  than  mis-believing ;  (since  it  plainly  appeared  to  me, 
that  Mr.  Montague  meant  to  express,  not  Arminius 7,  but  bishop 
Overall,  a  more  moderate  and  safe  author,  however  he  sped  in 
delivery  of  him ;)  I  wrote  a  little  project  of  pacification 8,  wherein 
I  desired  to  rectify  the  judgment  of  men,  concerning  this  misap- 
prehended controversy,  shewing  them  the  true  parties  in  this  un- 
seasonable plea;  and  because  bishop  Overall  went  a  midway, 

7  To  express,  not  Arminius^]  On  this  subject  Mountague  shall  best  speak  for 
himself.      It  would  be  well  if  his  wise  and  noble  sentiments  could  make 
their  due  impression  upon  many  shallow  controversialists  in  our  own  days. 

"  I  disavow  the  name  and  title  of  Arminian.  I  am  no  more  Arminian 
than  they  are  Gomarians ;  not  so  much  in  all  probability.  They  delight,  it 
seemeth,  to  be  called  after  men's  names ;  for  anon  they  stick  not  to  call 
themselves  Calvinists ;  which  title,  though  more  honourable  than  Gomarian 
or  Arminian,  I  am  not  so  fond  of,  or  doting  upon,  but  I  can  be  content  to 
leave  it  unto  those  that  affect  it,  and  hold  it  reputation  to  be  so  instiled.  I 
am  not,  nor  would  be  accounted  willingly  Arminian,  Calvinist,  or  Lutheran 
(names  of  division)  but  a  Christian.  For  my  faith  was  never  taught  by  the 
doctrine  of  men.  I  was  not  baptized  into  the  belief,  or  assumed  by  grace 
into  the  family  of  any  of  these,  or  of  the  pope.  I  will  not  pin  my  belief  unto 
any  man's  sleeve,  carry  he  his  head  ever  so  high ;  not  unto  St.  Augustin,  or 
any  ancient  father,  nedum  unto  men  of  lower  rank.  A  Christian  I  am,  and 
so  glory  to  be  j  only  denominated  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord  and  Master,  by 
whom  I  never  was  as  yet  so  wronged,  that  I  would  relinquish  willingly  that 
royal  title,  and  exchange  it  for  any  of  his  menial  servants.  And  further  yet 
I  do  profess,  that  I  see  no  reason  why  any  member  of  the  Church  of  England, 
a  church  every  way  so  transcendant  unto  that  of  Leyden  and  Geneva,  should 
lowt  so  low  as  to  denominate  himself  of  any  of  the  most  eminent  amongst 
them  .... 

"Again  for  Arminianism,  I  must  and  do  protest  before  God  and  his 
angels,  idque  in  verbo  sacerdotis,  the  time  is  yet  to  come  that  ever  I  read 
word  in  Arminius.  The  course  of  my  studies  was  never  addressed  to  modern 
epitomizers :  but  from  my  first  entrance  to  the  study  of  divinity,  I  balked 
the  ordinary  and  accustomed  by-paths  of  Bastingius's  Catechism,  Fenner's 
Divinity,  Bucanus'  Common  Places,  Trelcatius,  Polanus,  and  such-like ;  and 
betook  myself  to  Scripture  the  rule  of  faith,  interpreted  by  antiquity,  the 
best  expositor  of  faith,  and  applier  of  that  rule :  holding  it  a  point  of  dis- 
cretion, to  draw  water,  as  near  as  I  could  to  the  well-head,  and  to  spare 
labour  in  vain,  in  running  further  off,  to  cisterns  and  lakes.  I  went  to 
enquire,  when  doubt  was,  of  the  days  of  old,  as  God  himself  directed  me  :  and 
hitherto  I  have  not  repented  me  of  it."  Mountague's  Appello  Ctssarem,  p.  10. 

8  A  little  project  of  pacificationJ]  The  way  of  Peace  in  the  five  busy  articles 
commonly  known  by  the  name  of  Arminius. 


betwixt  the  two  opinions  which  he  held  extreme,  and  must  needs 
therefore  somewhat  differ  from  the  commonly-received  tenet  in 
these  points,  I  gathered  out  of  bishop  Overall  on  the  one  side, 
and  out  of  our  English  divines  at  Dort  on  the  other,  such  common 
propositions  concerning  these  five  busy  articles,  as  wherein  both 
of  them  are  fully  agreed ;  all  which  being  put  together,  seemed 
unto  me  to  make  up  so  sufficient  a  body  of  accorded  truth,  that 
all  other  questions  moved  hereabouts,  appeared  merely  super- 
fluous, and  every  moderate  Christian  might  find  where  to  rest 
himself,  without  hazard  of  contradiction.  These  I  made  bold  by 
the  hands  of  Dr.  Young9  the  worthy  dean  of  Winchester,  to 
present  to  his  excellent  majesty,  together  with  a  humble  motion  of 
a  peaceable  silence  to  be  enjoined  to  both  parts,  in  those  other 
collateral,  and  needless  disquisitions :  which  if  they  might  befit 
the  schools  of  academical  disputants,  could  not  certainly  sound 
well  from  the  pulpits  of  popular  auditories.  Those  reconciliatory 
papers  fell  under  the  eyes  of  some  grave  divines  on  both  parts. 
Mr.  Montague  professed  that  he  had  seen  them,  and  would 
subscribe  to  them  very  willingly;  others  that  were  contrarily 
minded,  both  English,  Scotish,  and  French  divines,  profered 
their  hands  to  a  no  less  ready  subscription ;  so  as  much  peace 
promised  to  result  out  of  that  weak  and  poor  enterprise,  had 
not  the  confused  noise  of  the  misconstructions  of  those  who 
never  saw  the  work,  (crying  it  down  for  the  very  name^s  sake) 
meeting  with  the  royal  edict  of  a  general  inhibition,  buried  it  in 
a  securfe  silence.  I  was  scorched  a  little  with  this  flame  which  I 
desired  to  quench;  yet  this  could  not  stay  my  hand  from 
thrusting  itself  into  an  hotter  fire. 

Some  insolent  Komanists  (Jesuits  especially)  in  their  bold  dis- 
putations (which  in  the  time  of  the  treaty  of  the  Spanish  match ', 
and  the  calm  of  that  relaxation  were  very  frequent,)  pressed 

•  Dr.  Young.]  John  Young,  installed  8th  July,  16 16. 

1  The  Spanish  match.]  "  We  have  little  news,  either  of  the  great  business, 
or  of  any  other,  though  messengers  come  weekly  out  of  Spain :  and  I  con- 
ceive that  matters  are  yet  very  doubtful.  The  new  chapel  for  the  Infanta 
goes  on  in  building,  and  our  London  papists  report  that  the  angels  descend 
every  niyht  and  build  part  of  it.  Here  hath  been  lately  a  conference  betwcn 
one  Fisher  a  jesuite  and  one  Sweete  on  the  one  side ;  and  Dr.  Whyte  and 
Dr.  Featly  on  the  other.  The  question  was  of  the  antiquity  and  succession  of 
the  Church.  It  is  said  we  shall  have  it  printed."  Sir  Henry  Bourgchier  to 
Abp.  Ussher,  then  bishop  of  Meath,  dated  July  U,  1623.  Ussher'sLi/e  and 
Letters,  p.  89.  See  also  Wren's  Parentalia,  p.  27. 


nothing  so  much,  as  a  catalogue  of  the  professors  of  our  religion 
to  be  deduced  from  the  primitive  times,  and  with  the  peremptory 
challenge  of  the  impossibility  of  this  pedigree  dazzled  the  eyes  of 
the  simple ;  whilst  some  of  our  learned  men 2,  undertaking  to 

2  Some  of  our  learned  men.']  The  question  which  the  priests  and  Jesuits 
continually  ingeminated  was,  "  Where  was  your  church  before  Luther  ? " 
Of  "  The  learned  men,"  of  whose  mode  of  reply  to  this  interrogatory  the 
bishop,  not  without  solid  reason,  expresses  his  disapprobation ;  two  I  appre- 
hend, were  persons  of  no  less  dignity  than  the  English  and  Irish  primates  of 
that  day  :  the  former,  Dr.  George  Abbot,  in  his  book  of  the  Visibility  of  the 
Church,  and  the  latter,  Dr.  James  Ussher,  in  his  De  Ecclesiarum  Christianarum 
successione  et  statu.  Abbot,  as  Dr.  Heylin  tells  us,  could  not  find  any  visi- 
bility of  the  Christian  church,  but  by  tracing  it,  as  well  as  he  could,  from  the 
Berengarians  to  the  Albigenses,  from  the  Albigenses  to  the  Wickliffists,  from 
the  Wickliffists  unto  the  Hussites,  and  from  the  Hussites  unto  Luther  and 
Calvin  (Life  of  Laud,  p.  53),  whereas  as  bishop  Hall  observes,  "Valdus, 
Wickliffe,  Luther,  did  never  go  about  to  frame  a  new  church,  which  was  not, 
but  to  cleanse,  restore,  reforme  that  church  which  was." 

"  Hence  may  be  answered  that  which  Rome  brings  as  her  Achilles, 
touching  the  succession  and  visibility  of  the  Protestants*  church  and  doc- 
trine in  all  ages  since  Christ :  for  if  theirs  (that  of  Rome)  have  had  such 
succession  and  visibility,  it  is  impossible  to  say  that  the  Protestants'  church 
has  not  had  them  also ;  the  former  (the  church  of  Rome)  only  adding  more 
articles  for  a  Christian  to  believe,  which  the  latter  will  not  embrace  as 
needful.  .  .  .  '  Protestants '  (says  Stapleton,  Fortress  of  Faith,  at  the  end  of 
Bede's  Hist.  fol.  47  b.)  'have  many  things  less  than  papists;  they  have 
taken  away  many  things  which  papists  had;  they  have  added  nothing.' 
And  here,  therefore,  to  my  understanding,  the  Romanists  require  of  us 
what  lies  on  their  part  to  prove.  For,  we,  denying,  in  the  succession  of 
bishops  from  Cranmer,  and  Warham,  even  to  Augustine,  and  so  of  the 
Britons,  ever  any  one  to  have  held  the  points  which  we  differ  in,  to  have 
been  points  of  faith,  in  that  degree  of  necessity  in  which  they  are  now 
required ;  and,  for  proof,  citing  not  only  the  Apostles',  Nicene,  and  Athana- 
sian  Creeds,  but  even  that  of  Peckham,  which  we  find  so  to  differ  from  that 
late  one,  set  out  by  Pius  IV. — as  we  cannot  but  say,  it  is  unjust  in  them  to 
press  us  to  a  profession  in  religion  further  than  our  ancestors  were  required ; 
so,  they  on  the  contrary,  affirming  all  those  holy  bishops  preceding,  not  only 
to  have  believed  those  articles  which  themselves  now  do,  but  also  that  they 
did  require  them  of  others  with  the  like  necessity  in  which  they  are  now 
required,  ought  certainly  to  prove  what  they  thus  boldly  affirm  :  which  when 
they  have  done,  truly  for  my  part  I  shall  think  fit  to  yield  ;  but  till  they  do 
it,  let  them  cease  from  proclaiming  us  heretics,  who  hold  no  other  than  the 
ancient  faith  at  first  delivered  unto  us. 

"  But  this,  as  a  point  rather  dogmatical  for  divines,  than  historical,  the 
subject  I  undertook,  I  shall  not  here  further  wade  into."  Twisden's  Histo- 
rical  Vindication,  p.  198. 


satisfy  so  needless  and  unjust  a  demand,  gave,  as  I  conceived, 
great  advantage  to  the  adversary.  In  a  just  indignation  to  see 
us  thus  wronged  by  mis-stating  the  question  betwixt  us,  as  if  we, 
yielding  ourselves  of  an  other  church,  originally  and  fundamentally 
different,  should  make  good  our  own  erection  upon  the  ruins, 
yea,  the  nullity  of  theirs,  and  well  considering  the  infinite  and 
great  inconveniences,  that  must  needs  follow  upon  this  defence 3, 
I  adventured  to  set  my  pen  on  work;  desiring  to  rectify  the 
opinions  of  those  men,  whom  an  ignorant  zeal  had  transported,  to 
the  prejudice  of  our  holy  cause,  laying  forth  the  damnable  cor- 
ruptions of  the  Roman  church,  yet  making  our  game  of  the  outward 
visibility  thereof,  and  by  this  means  putting  them  to  the  probation 
of  those  newly  obtruded  corruptions  which  are  truly  guilty  of  the 
breach  betwixt  us ;  the  drift  whereof,  being  not  well  conceived, 
by  some  spirits  *,  that  were  not  so  wise  as  fervent,  I  was  suddenly 
exposed  to  the  rash  censures  of  many  well  affected  and  zealous 
protestants,  as  if  I  had  in  a  remission  to  my  wonted  zeal  to  the 
truth  attributed  too  much  to  the  Roman  church,  and  strengthened 
the  adversaries  hands  and  weakened  our  own.  This  envy  I  was 

3  Upon  this  defence. ~\  The  bishop  here  alludes  to  the  practices  and  judg- 
ment of  Zanchius,  Perkins,  Whittaker,  &c.     See  The  Apologetical  Advertise- 
ment.    Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  49.  55.  part  2.  fol. 

4  By  some  spirits. .]  Sanderson,  afterwards  bishop  of  Lincoln,  in  that  part 
of  the  famous  Preface  to  his  Sermons,  bearing  date  July  13,  1657,  in  which 
he  shews  the  advantages  which  the  Puritan  writers  gave  to  the  Romish  party, 
by  the  unsoundness  of  their  reasonings,  and  their  extreme  intolerance ;  and 
the  much  greater  progress  which  popery  was  making  in  England  towards 
the  latter  end  of  the  commonwealth  through  their  incapacity,  than  it  had  ever 
done  before,  remarks  that  "They  promoted  the  interest  of  Rome  and  betrayed 
the  Protestant  Cause,  partly  by  mistaking  the  question  (a  very  common  fault 
among  them,)  but  especially  through  the  necessity  of  some  false  principle  or 
other,  which  having  once  imbibed,  they  think  themselves  bound  to  maintain. 
....  Among  those  false  principles^  it  shall  suffice  for  the  present  to  have 
named  but  this  one,  That  the  Church  with  Rome  is  no  true  Church.    The  dis- 
advantages of  which  assertion  to  our  cause  in  the  dispute  about  the  visibility 
of  the  church  (besides  the  falseness  and  uncharitableness  of  it)  their  zeal,  or 
prejudice  rather,  will  not  suffer  them  to  consider.    With  what  out-cries  was 
bishop  Hall,  good  man,  (who  little  dreamt  of  any  peace  with  Rome)  pursued 
by  Burton  and  other  hot-spurs,  for  yielding  it  a  church  !  who  had  made  the 
same  concession  over  and  over  again  before  he  was  bishop  (as  Junius,  Rey- 
nolds, and  our  best  controversy  writers  generally  do,)  and  no  notice  taken, 
no  noise  made  about  it."     P.  79,  edit.  1689.     Or,  Christian  Institutes,  vol.  iv. 
p.  571. 


fain  to  take  off  by  my  speedy  "  Apologetical  Advertisement,"  and 
after  that  by  my  "  Reconciler 3,"  seconded  with  the  unanimous 
letters  of  such  reverend,  learned,  sound  divines 8,  both  bishops  and 
doctors,  as  whose  undoubtable  authority,  was  able  to  bear  down 
calumny  itself.  Which  done  I  did  by  a  seasonable  moderation 
provide  for  the  peace  of  the  church,  in  silencing  both  my  defendants 
and  challengers,  in  this  unkind  and  ill-raised  quarrel. 

Immediately  before  the  publishing  of  this  tractate,  (which  did 
not  a  little  aggravate  the  envy  and  suspicion)  I  was  by  his 
majesty  raised  to  the  bishopric  of  Exeter 7,  having  formerly  (with 
much  humble  deprecation)  refused  the  see  of  Gloucester  earnestly 
proffered  unto  me.  How  beyond  all  expectation  it  pleased  God 
to  place  me  in  that  western  charge ;  which  (if  the  duke  of 
Buckingham's  letters,  he  being  then  in  France 8,  had  arrived  but 
some  hours  sooner)  I  had  been  defeated  of ;  and  by  what  strange 
means  it  pleased  God  to  make  up  the  competency  of  that  pro- 
vision, by  the  unthought  of  addition  of  the  rectory  of  St.  Breok 
within  that  diocese,  if  I  should  fully  relate,  the  circumstances 
would  force  the  confession  of  an  extraordinary  hand  of  God  in 
the  disposing  of  those  events. 

I  entered  upon  that  place,  not  without  much  prejudice  and 
suspicion  on  some  hands ;  for  some  that  sate  at  the  stern  of  the 
church,  had  me  in  great  jealousy  for  too  much  favour9  of 
Puritanism.  I  soon  had  intelligence  who  were  set  over  me  for 
espials ;  my  ways  were  curiously  observed  and  scanned.  How- 
ever, I  took  the  resolution  to  follow  those  courses  which  might 
most  conduce  to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  my  new  and  weighty 
charge ;  finding  therefore  some  factious  spirits  very  busy  in  that 
diocese,  I  used  all  fair  and  gentle  means  to  win  them  to  good 
order ;  and  therein  so  happily  prevailed  that  (saving  two  of  that 
numerous  clergy,  who  continuing  in  their  refractoriness  fled  away 
from  censure,)  they  were  all  perfectly  reclaimed ;  so  as  I  had 
not  one  minister  professedly  opposite  to  the  anciently  received 
orders  (for  I  was  never  guilty  of  urging  any  new  impositions  *) 

6  My  "  Reconciler."]  See  Works,  vol.  ii.  part  2.  p.  57 — 99. 

6  Sound  divines.]  B.  Morton,  B.  Davenant,  Dr.  Prideaux,  Dr.  Primrose. 

7  The  bishopric   of  Exeter]    He  was   elected   Nov.  5,   and   consecrated 
Dec.  23,  1627. 

8  Then  in  France]  In  the  expedition  to  the  Isle  of  Rhe. 

9  Too  much  favour]    See  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  294.     Heylin's  Life  of  Laud, 
p.  54. 

1  Any  new  impositions]  Here  is  a  reflexion,  designed,  no  doubt,  to  point 


of  the  church  in  that  large  diocese.  Thus  we  went  on  com- 
fortably together,  till  some  persons  of  note  in  the  clergy,  being 
guilty  of  their  own  negligence  and  disorderly  courses,  began  to 
envy  our  success  ;  and  finding  me  ever  ready  to  encourage  those 
whom  I  found  conscionably  forward  and  painful  in  their  places, 
and  willingly  giving  way  to  orthodox  and  peaceable  lectures  in 
several  parts  of  my  diocese,  opened  their  mouths  against  me, 
both  obliquely  in  the  pulpit,  and  directly  at  the  court ;  complain- 
ing of  my  too  much  indulgence  to  persons  disaffected,  and  my 
too  much  liberty  of  frequent  lecturings  within  my  charge.  The 
billows  went  so  high  that  I  was  three  several  times  upon  my 
knee  to  his  majesty,  to  answer  these  great  criminations ;  and 
what  contestation  1  had  with  some  great  lords  concerning  these 
particulars,  it  would  be  too  long  to  report ;  only  this ;  under 
how  dark  a  cloud  I  was  hereupon,  I  was  so  sensible,  that  I 
plainly  told  the  lord  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  that  rather  than  I 
would  be  obnoxious  to  those  slanderous  tongues  of  his  misin- 
formers,  I  would  cast  up  my  rochet.  I  knew  I  went  right  ways, 
and  would  not  endure  to  live  under  undeserved  suspicions.  What 
messages  of  caution  I  had  from  some  of  my  wary  brethren,  and 
what  expostulatory  letters  I  had  from  above,  I  need  not  relate.  Sure 
I  am  I  had  peace,  and  comfort  at  home,  in  the  happy  sense  of  that 
general  unanimity,  and  loving  correspondence  of  my  clergy ;  till 
in  the  last  year  of  my  presiding  there,  after  the  synodical  oath  2 

against  archbishop  Laud.  It  may  be  but  fair  then,  to  see  what  the  arch- 
bishop had  to  say  for  himself  respecting  this  charge  of  imposition,  when  he 
had  the  opportunity  of  being  heard,  after  being  ^axed  for  it,  in  parliament, 
by  one  of  his  bitterest  adversaries. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  since  I  am  the  man  so  particularly  shot  at,  I  shall 
answer  for  myself  according  to  truth ; — and  with  truth  which  I  can  legally 
prove,  if  need  be.  I  have  not  commanded  or  enjoined  any  one  thing,  cere- 
monial, or  other,  upon  any  parochial  congregation  in  England,  much  less 
upon  all,  to  be  either  practised,  or  suffered,  but  that  which  is  directly  com- 
manded by  law.  And  if  any  inferior  ordinary  in  the  kingdom,  or  any  of  my 
own  officers  have  given  any  such  command,  it  is  either  without  my  know- 
ledge, or  against  my  direction.  And  it  is  well  known,  I  have  sharply  chid 
some  for  this  very  particular.  And  if  my  lord  "  (lord  Say)  "  would  have 
acquainted  me  with  any  such  troubled  thoughts  of  his,  I  would  have  given 
him,  so  far  as  had  been  in  my  power,  either  satisfaction  or  remedy."  Laud's 
Answer  to  Lord  Say's  Speech.  Troubles,  fyc.  p.  499. 

2  The  synodical  oath.']  The  oath  contained  in  the  sixth  canon  of  1640, 
called  also  the  etcetera  oath,  the  object  of  which  was  to  declare  an  approba- 
tion of  the  doctrine  and  discipline  of  the  church  of  England,  as  containing 


was  set  on  foot,  (which  yet  I  did  never  tender  to  any  one 
minister  of  my  diocese)  by  the  incitation  of  some  busy  inter- 
lopers of  the  neighbour  county,  some  of  them  began  to  enter 
into  an  unkind  contestation  with  me,  about  the  election  of  clerks 
of  the  convocation  ;  whom  they  secretly,  without  ever  acquainting 
me  with  their  desire  or  purpose  (as  driving  to  that  end  which  we 
see  now  accomplished)  would  needs  nominate  and  set  up  in  com- 
petition to  those,  whom  I  had  (after  the  usual  form)  recommended 
to  them.  That  they  had  a  right  to  free  voices  in  that  choice,  I 
denied  not ;  only  I  had  reason  to  take  it  unkindly,  that  they 
would  work  underhand  without  me,  and  against  me  ;  professing 
that  if  they  had  before  hand  made  their  desires  known  to  me,  I 
should  willingly  have  gone  along  with  them  in  their  election.  It 
came  to  the  poll.  Those  of  my  nomination  carried  it.  The 
parliament  began.  After  some  hard  tugging  there,  returning 
home  upon  a  recess  I  was  met  on  the  way,  and  cheerfully 
welcomed  with  some  hundreds.  In  no  worse  terms,  I  left  that 
my  once  dear  diocese  :  when  returning  to  Westminster,  I  was 
soon  called  by  his  majesty  (who  was  then  in  the  north)  to  a  remove 
to  Norwich 3 :  but  how  I  took  the  Tower  in  my  way ;  and  how 
I  have  been  dealt  with  since  my  repair  hither,  I  could  be  lavish 
in  the  sad  report,  ever  desiring  my  good  God  to  enlarge  my  heart 
in  thankfulness  to  him,  for  the  sensible  experience  I  have  had 
of  his  fatherly  hand  over  me,  in  the  deepest  of  all  my  afflictions, 
and  to  strengthen  me,  for  whatsoever  other  trials  he  shah1  be 
pleased  to  call  me  unto  ;  that  being  found  faithful  unto  the 
death,  I  may  obtain  that  crown  of  life,  which  he  hath  ordained 
for  all  those  that  overcome. 

all  things  necessary  to  salvation,  "  and  an  avowal  to  maintain  it  against  both 
papists  and  puritans.  But  nothing  raised  so  much  noise  and  clamour  as  the 
oath  required  by  the  sixth  canon ;  exclaimed  against  both  from  the  pulpit 
and  the  press ;  reproached  in  printed  pamphlets,  and  unprinted  scribbles ; 
and  glad  they  were  to  find  such  an  excellent  advantage,  as  the  discovering  of 
an  Sfc.  in  the  body  of  it  did  unhappily  give  them."  Heylin's  Life  of  Laud, 
p.  443.  The  clause  in  which  this  unhappy  oversight  occurred,  (for  it  was 
probably  nothing  more)  stood  thus  :  "  Nor  will  I  ever  give  my  consent  to 
alter  the  government  of  this  church  by  archbishops,  bishops,  deans  and 
archdeacons,  &c.  as  it  stands  now  established,  and  as  by  right  it  ought  to 
stand ;  nor  yet  ever  to  subject  it  to  the  usurpations  and  superstitions  of  the 
see  of  Rome."  Sparrow's  Canons,  &c.  p.  359,  A.D.  IC75. 

3  To  a  remove  to  Norwich.']  He  was  elected,  November  15,  1641. 



NOTHING  could  be  more  plain,  than  that  upon  the  call  of  this 
parliament l,  and  before,  there  was  a  general  plot  and  resolution 
of  the  faction  to  alter  the  government  of  the  church  especially. 
The  height  and  insolency  of  some  church-governors,  as  was  con- 
ceived, and  the  ungrounded  imposition  of  some  innovations  *  upon 
the  churches  both  of  Scotland  and  England,  gave  a  fit  hint  to 
the  project.  In  the  vacancy  therefore  before  the  summons,  and 
immediately  after  it,  there  was  great  working 3  secretly  for  the 
designation  and  election  as  of  knights  and  burgesses,  so  especially 
(beyond  all  former  use)  of  the  clerks  of  convocation  ;  when  now 
the  clergy  were  stirred  up  to  contest  with,  and  oppose  their  dio- 
cesans, for  the  choice  of  such  men  as  were  most  inclined  to  the 
favour  of  an  alteration.  The  parliament  was  no  sooner  set,  than 
many  vehement  speeches  were  made  against  established  church- 
government,  and  enforcement  of  extirpation  both  root  and  branch. 
And  because  it  was  not  fit  to  set  upon  all  at  once,  the  resolution 
was  to  begin  with  those  bishops  which  had  subscribed  to  the 
canons  *  then  lately  published  upon  the  shutting  up  of  the  former 
parliament ;  whom  they  would  first  have  had  accused  of  treason  ; 

1  This  parliament."]  The  Long  Parliament,  according  to  the  name  which  it 
afterwards  earned  to  itself.  It  began  Nov.  3,  16 10. 

3  Innovations.']  See  Heylin's  Life  of  Laud,  p.  443—5,  edit.  1671 ;  and  Hist, 
of  Nonconformity,  p.  345,  or  Baxter's  Life,  &c.  p.  369. 

3  There  was  great  working.]  "  I  was  indeed  sorry  to  hear,  with  what  par- 
tiality and  popular  heat  elections  were  carried  on  in  many  places ;  yet  hoping 
that  the  gravity  and  discretion  of  other  gentlemen  would  allay  and  fix  the 
commons  in  a  due  temperament,  guiding  some  men's  well-meaning  zeal  by 
such  rules  of  moderation  as  are  best  both  to  preserve  and  restore  the  health 
of  all  states  and  kingdoms, — no  man  was  better  pleased  with  the  convening 
of  this  parliament  than  myself;  who  knowing  best  the  largeness  of  my  own 
heart  towards  my  people's  good  and  just  contentment,  pleased  myself  most 
in  that  good  and  firm  understanding,  which  would  hence  grow  between  me 
and  my  people." — Jc6n  Easilike ;  the  Portraiture  of  his  sacred  Majesty  in  his 
Solitudes  and  Sufferings,  chap.  i. 

4  To  the  canons.']    Viz.  of  1640.     See  Sparrow's  Collection  of  Articles,  In- 
junctions, Canons,  &c.  p.  335—74. 


but  that  not  appearing  feasible,  they  thought  best  to  indite  them s 
of  very  high  crimes  and  offences  against  the  king,  the  parliament, 

5  To  indite  them.']  On  the  llth  March,  1640-1,  the  commons  resolved 
"  that  for  bishops  or  any  other  clergyman  whatsoever  to  be  in  the  commission 
of  the  peace,  or  to  have  any  judicial  power  in  the  star-chamber,  or  in  any 
civil  court,  is  a  hindrance  to  their  spiritual  function,  prejudicial  to  the  com- 
monwealth, and  fit  to  be  taken  away;"  and,  on  the  1st  of  May  following,  a 
bill  to  that  effect  passed  the  commons,  and  was  sent  up  to  the  lords,  where  it 
was  read  a  first  time.  On  that  day,  bishop  Hall  (Exeter)  delivered  the  fol- 
lowing admirable  speech,  which  is  preserved  in  his  Works,  vol.  x.  p.  70-2, 
and  in  the  Parliamentary  History. 

"  My  lords, 

"This  is  the  strangest  bill  that  I  ever  heard  of,  since  I  was  admitted  to 
sit  under  this  roof:  for  it  strikes  at  the  very  fabric  and  composition  of  this 
house ;  at  the  stile  of  all  laws  ;  and  therefore,  were  it  not  that  it  comes  from 
such  a  recommendation,  it  would  not,  I  suppose,  undergo  any  long  consider- 
ation :  but,  coming  to  us  from  such  hands,  it  cannot  but  be  worthy  of  your 
best  thoughts. 

"  And,  truly,  for  the  main  scope  of  the  bill,  I  shall  yield  it  most  willingly, 
that  ecclesiastical  and  sacred  persons  should  not  ordinarily  be  taken  up  with 
secular  affairs.  The  minister  is  called  vir  Dei,  a  man  of  God  :  he  may  not 
be  vir  seculi.  He  may  lend  himself  to  them,  upon  occasion :  he  may  not 
give  himself  over  purposely  to  them.  Shortly,  he  may  not  50  attend  worldly 
things,  as  that  he  do  neglect  divine  things.  This  we  gladly  yield.  Matters 
of  justice,  therefore,  are  not  proper,  as  an  ordinary  trade,  for  our  function  ; 
and,  by  my  consent,  shall  be,  as  in  a  generality,  waved  and  deserted  :  which, 
for  my  part,  I  never  have  meddled  with,  but  in  a  charitable  way ;  with  no 
profit,  but  some  charge  to  myself,  whereof  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  eased.  Trac- 
tentfabriliafabri  j  as  the  old  word  is. 

"  But  if  any  man  shall  hence  think  fit  to  infer  that  some  spiritual  person 
may  not  occasionally  be  in  a  special  service  of  his  king  or  country ;  and, 
when  he  is  so  required  by  his  prince,  give  his  advice  in  the  urgent  affairs  of 
the  kingdom,  which  I  suppose  is  the  main  point  driven  at;  it  is  such  an 
inconsequence,  as  I  dare  boldly  say  cannot  be  made  good,  either  by  divinity 
or  reason  ;  by  the  laws  either  of  God  or  man  :  whereas  the  contrary  may  be 
proved  and  enforced  by  both. 

"  As  for  the  grounds  of  this  bill,  that  the  minister's  duty  is  so  great,  that 
it  is  able  to  take  up  the  whole  man,  and  the  apostle  saith,  Tu;  iKavog ;  who  is 
sufficient  for  these  things  ?  and  that  he,  who  warfares  to  God  should  not  entangle 
himself  with  this  world ;  it  is  a  sufficient  and  just  conviction  of  those,  who 
would  divide  themselves  betwixt  God  and  the  world,  and  bestow  any  main 
part  of  their  time  upon  secular  affairs  :  but  it  hath  no  operation  at  all  upon 
this  tenet,  which  we  have  in  hand  •  that  a  man  dedicate  to  God,  may  not  so 
much  as,  when  he  is  required,  cast  a  glance  of  his  eye,  or  some  minutes  of 
time,  or  some  motives  of  his  tongue,  upon  the  public  business  of  his  king 
and  country.  Those  that  expect  this  from  us,  may  as  well,  and  upon  the 
same  reason,  hold  that  a  minister  must  have  no  family  at  all ;  or,  if  he  have 

VOL.   IV.  X 


and  kingdom,  which  was  prosecuted  with  great  earnestness  bysome 
prime  lawyers  in  the  house  of  commons,  and  entertained  with  like 

one,  must  not  care  for  it :  yea,  that  he  must  have  no  body  to  tend,  but  be  all 

"  My  lords,  we  are  men  of  the  same  composition  with  others ;  and  our 
breeding  hath  been  accordingly.  We  cannot  have  lived  in  the  world,  without 
having  seen  it,  and  observed  it  too  :  and  our  long  experience  and  conversa- 
tion, both  in  men  and  in  books,  cannot  but  have  put  something  into  us  for 
the  good  of  others :  and  now,  having  a  double  capacity,  qua  cites,  qua  eccle- 
siastici,  as  members  of  the  commonwealth,  as  ministers  and  governors  of  the 
church ;  we  are  ready  to  do  our  best  service  in  both.  One  of  them  is  no  way 
incompatible  with  the  other :  yea,  the  subjects  of  them  both  are  so  united 
with  the  church  and  commonwealth,  that  they  cannot  be  severed :  yea  so,  as 
that,  not  the  one  is  in  the  other,  but  the  one  is  the  other,  is  both  :  so  as  the 
services  which  we  do  upon  these  occasions  to  the  commonwealth,  are  insepa- 
rable from  our  good  offices  to  the  church  :  so  that,  upon  this  ground,  there  is 
no  reason  of  our  exclusion 

"  But,  I  fear  it  is  not  on  some  hands,  the  tender  regard  of  the  full  scope 
of  our  calling,  that  is  so  much  here  stood  upon,  as  the  conceit  of  too  much 
honour,  that  is  done  us,  in  taking  up  the  room  of  peers,  and  voting  in  this 
high  court :  for  surely,  those  that  are  averse  from  our  votes,  yet  could  be 
content,  we  should  have  place  upon  the  woolsacks ;  and  could  allow  us  ears, 
but  not  tongues. 

"  If  this  be  the  matter,  I  beseech  your  lordships  to  consider  that  this 
honour  is  not  done  to  us,  but  to  our  profession  ;  which  whatever  we  be  in  our 
several  persons,  cannot  easily  be  capable  of  too  much  respect  from  your  lord- 
ships. Non  tibi,  sed  Isidi ;  as  he  said  of  old. 

"  Neither  is  this  any  new  grace,  that  is  put  upon  our  calling ;  which,  if  it 
were  now  to  begin,  might  perhaps  be  justly  grudged  to  our  unworthiness : 
but  it  is  an  ancient  right  and  inheritance,  inherent  in  our  station  :  no  less 
ancient  than  these  walls,  wherein  we  sit :  yea,  more  :  before  ever  there  were 
parliaments,  in  the  magna  concilia  of  the  kingdom  we  had  our  places.  And 
as  for  my  own  predecessors,  ever  since  the  Conqueror's  time  I  can  shew  your 
lordships  a  just  catalogue  of  them,  that  have  sat  before  me  here :  and,  truly, 
though  I  have  just  cause  to  be  mean  in  mine  own  eyes,  yet  why,  or  wherein, 
there  should  be  more  unworthiness  in  me  than  the  rest,  that  I  should  be 
stripped  of  that  privilege  which  they  so  long  enjoyed,  though  there  were  no 
law  to  hold  me  here,  I  cannot  see  or  confess. 

"  What  respects  of  honour  have  been  put  upon  the  prime  clergy  of  old, 
both  by  Pagans,  and  Jews,  and  Christians,  and  what  are  still  both  within 
Christendom  and  without,  I  shall  not  need  to  urge :  it  is  enough  to  say,  this 
of  ours  is  not  merely  arbitrary;  but  stands  so  firmly  established  by  law  and 
custom,  that  I  hope  it  neither  will  nor  can  be  removed,  except  you  will  shake 
those  foundations,  which  1  believe  you  desire  to  hold  firm  and  inviolable. 

-hortly,  then,  my  lords,  the  church  craves  no  new  honour  from  you: 
and  justly  hopes  you  will  not  be  guilty  of  pulling  down  the  old.  As  you  are 
the  eldest  sons,  and  next  under  his  majesty,  the  honourable  patrons  of  the 


fervency  by  some  zealous  lords  in  the  house  of  peers  ;  every  of 
those  particular  canons  being  pressed  to  the  most  envious  and 
dangerous  height  that  was  possible :  the  archbishop  of  York 6, 
aggravating  Mr.  Maynard's  criminations  to  the  utmost,  not  with- 
out some  interspersions  of  his  own.  The  counsel  of  the  accused 
bishops  gave  in  such  a  demurring  answer  as  stopped  the  mouth 
of  that  heinous  indictment. 

When  this  prevailed  not,  it  was  contrived  to  draw  petitions 
accusatory  from  many  parts  of  the  kingdom  against  episcopal 

church  ;  so  she  expects  and  beseeches  you  to  receive  her  into  your  tenderest 
care ;  so  to  order  her  affairs,  that  you  leave  her  to  posterity  in  no  worse  case 
than  you  found  her. 

"  It  is  a  true  word  of  Damasus,  Ubi  mlescit  nomen  episcopi,  omnis  status 
perturbatur  ecclesies.  If  this  be  suffered,  the  misery  will  be  the  church's  :  the 
dishonour  and  blur  of  the  act  in  future  ages  will  be  yours. 

"  To  shut  up,  therefore,  let  us  be  taken  off  from  all  ordinary  trade  of 
secular  employments :  and,  if  you  please,  abridge  us  of  intermeddling  with 
matters  of  common  justice  :  but  leave  us  possessed  of  those  places  and  pri- 
vileges in  parliament,  which  our  predecessors  have  so  long  and  peaceably 

On  the  14th  of  May  the  bill  was  read  a  second  time  in  the  lords,  and  the 
bishops  were  zealously  defended  by  Robert  Pierrepont,  viscount  Newark  (and 
earl  of  Kingston),  whose  speech  is  given  by  Fuller.  On  the  24th  the  bill 
was  in  committee,  when  the  bishop  of  Lincoln  (John  Williams)  spoke  at 
great  length  against  it,  lord  Say  and  Sele  in  its  favour,  and  lord  Newark 
again  spoke  on  behalf  of  the  bishops.  On  the  27th  the  lords  desired  a  con- 
ference with  the  commons,  and  on  the  same  day  sir  Edward  Dering  brought 
into  the  commons  a  bill  for  the  utter  abolishing  of  bishops,  deans,  pre- 
bendaries, &c.  &c.,  and  the  second  reading  was  carried  at  once  by  139  to  108. 
On  the  3rd  and  4th  of  June  further  conferences  took  place  between  the  two 
houses,  and  on  the  3rd  of  July  an  impeachment  was  ordered.  Accordingly, 
on  the  3rd  of  August,  sergeant  Wylde,  M.P.  for  Worcestershire,  presented 
articles  of  impeachment  against  the  following  bishops  : 

Walter  Curie,  Winchester.  Matthew  Wren,  Ely. 

Robert  Wright,  Coventry  and  Lick-        William  Roberts,  Bangor. 
field.  Robert  Skinner,  Bristol. 

Godfrey  Goodman,  Gloucester.  John  Warner,  Rochester. 

JOSEPH  HALL,  Exeter.  John  Towers,  Peterborough. 

John  Owen,  St.  Asaph.  Morgan  Owen,  Llandaff. 

William  Pierce,  Bath  and  Wells.  William  Laud,  Canterbury. 

George  Coke,  Hereford. 

On  the  26th  of  October  another  conference  took  place,  and  on  the  10th  of 
November  the  impeached  bishops  put  in  their  plea. 

6  Archbishop  of  York.~\  Meaning  John  Williams,  who,  however,  at  this 
time,  was  only  bishop  of  Lincoln :  he  was  not  translated  to  York  till  the  4th 
of  December  following. 

x  2 


government,  and  the  promoters  of  the  petitions  were  entertained 
with  great  respects ;  whereas  the  many  petitions  of  the  opposite 
part,  though  subscribed  with  many  thousand  hands,  were  slighted 
and  disregarded.  Withal,  the  rabble  of  London,  after  their  peti- 
tions cunningly  and  upon  other  pretences  procured,  were  stirred 
up  to  come  to  the  houses  personally  to  crave  justice  both  against 
the  earl  of  Strafford  first,  and  then  against  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  and  lastly  against  the  whole  order  of  bishops ;  which 
coming  at  first  unarmed  were  checked  by  some  well-willers,  and 
easily  persuaded  to  gird  on  their  rusty  swords,  and  so  accoutered 
came  by  thousands 7  to  the  houses,  filling  all  the  outer  rooms, 
offering  foul  abuses  to  the  bishops  as  they  passed,  crying  out,  no 
bishops,  no  bishops;  and  at  last,  after  divers  days  assembling, 
grown  to  that  height  of  fury,  that  many  of  them,  whereof  sir 
Richard  Wiseman  professed  (though  to  his  cost 8)  to  be  captain, 
came  with  resolution  of  some  violent  courses,  insomuch  that  many 
swords  were  drawn  hereupon  at  Westminster,  and  the  rout  did 
not  stick  openly  to  profess  that  they  would  pull  the  bishops  in 
pieces.  Messages  were  sent  down  to  them  from  the  lords.  They 
still  held  firm  both  to  the  place  and  their  bloody  resolutions.  It  now 
grew  to  be  torch-light.  One  of  the  lords,  the  marquis  of  Hertford 9, 
came  up  to  the  bishops1  form,  told  us  that  we  were  in  great  danger, 
advised  us  to  take  some  course  for  our  own  safety,  and  being  desired 
to  tell  us  what  he  thought  was  the  best  way,  counselled  us  to  con- 
tinue in  the  parliament  house  all  that  night ;  "  for  "  (saith  he) 
"  these  people  vow  they  will  watch  you  at  your  going  out  and  will 
search  every  coach  for  you  with  torches,  so  as  you  cannot  escape." 
Hereupon  the  house  of  lords  was  moved  for  some  order  for  the 

7  Came  by  thousands.']  Compare  Ic6n  Basilike,  chap.  iv.    Upon  the  Insolency 
of  the  Tumults. 

8  To  his  co*/.]    It  was  on  the  28th  December,  1641,  that  this  disturbance 
took  place.     An  attempt  was  made  to  force  the  abbey,  where  the  regalia,  an 
object  of  plunder,  were  kept.     The  servants  of  the  archbishop  of  York,  who 
was  still  for  the  time  dean  of  Westminster,  drew  their  swords,  and  defended 
the  church  and  its  contents.     Some  mounted  the  roof,  and  threw  down  mis- 
siles on  the  assailants ;  the  following  statement  by  Baxter  is  very  remark- 
able : — "  Sir    Richard   Wiseman    leading  them  [the  apprentices  and  other 
rabble  assailants]  there  was  some  fray  about  Westminster  Abbey  between  the 
cavaliers  and  them,  and  sir  Richard  Wiseman  was  slain  by  a  stone  from  off  the 
abbey  walls." — Baxter's  Life  and  Times,  p.  27. 

9  Marquis  of  Hertford.]  William  Seymour,  created  marquis  of  Hertford  in 
1640  (afterwards,  in  1CCO,  restored  as  duke  of  Somerset);  who,  when  young, 
had  married  lady  Arabella  Stuart;  see  p.  15,  ante. 


preventing  their  mutinous  and  riotous  meetings.  Messages  were 
sent  down  to  the  house  of  commons  to  this  purpose  more  than 
once.  Nothing  was  effected  :  but  for  the  present  (for  so  much 
as  all  the  danger  was  at  the  rising  of  the  house)  it  was  earnestly 
desired  of  the  lords  that  some  care  might  be  taken  of  our  safety. 
The  motion  was  received  by  some  lords  with  a  smile.  Some  other 
lords,  as  the  earl  of  Manchester  *,  undertook  the  protection  of  the 
archbishop  of  York  and  his  company  (whose  shelter  I  went  under) 
to  their  lodgings ;  the  rest,  some  of  them  by  their  long  stay, 
others  by  secret  and  far-fetched  passages  escaped  home. 

It  was  not  for  us  to  venture  any  more  to  the  house  without 
some  better  assurance.  Upon  our  resolved  forbearance,  there- 
fore, the  archbishop  of  York  sent  for  us  to  his  lodging  at  West- 
minster ;  lays  before  us  the  perilous  condition  we  were  in :  ad- 
vises for  remedy  (except  we  meant  utterly  to  abandon  our  right, 
and  to  desert  our  station  in  parliament)  to  petition  both  his 
majesty  and  the  parliament,  that  since  we  were  legally  called  by 
his  majesty's  writ  to  give  our  attendance  in  parliament,  we  might 
be  secured  in  the  performance  of  our  duty  and  service  against 
those  dangers  that  threatened  us ;  and  withal  to  protest  against 3 
any  such  acts  as  should  be  made  during  the  time  of  our  forced 
absence ;  for  which  he  assured  us  there  were  many  precedents  in 

1  Earl  of  Manchester.']    Henry  Montagu,  first  earl  of  Manchester,  Lord 
Privy  Seal.     He  died  November  7,  1642.     His  son  was  the  well-known  par- 
liamentarian general, 

2  To  protest  against.']  The  protest  was  presented  on  the  30th  of  December, 
1641.     It  was  signed  by 

John     Williams,     Archbishop     of        William  Pierce,  Bath  and  Wells. 

York.  John  Coke,  Hereford. 

Thomas  Morton,  Durham.  Matthew  Wren,  Ely. 

Joseph  Hall,  Norwich.  Robert  Skinner,  Oxford. 

Robert  Wright,  Coventry  and  Lich-        George  Goodwin,  Gloucester, 
field.  John  Warner,  Peterborough. 

John  Owen,  St.  Asaph.  Morgan  Owen,  Llandaff. 

At  this  time  five  sees  were  vacant,  viz. — 

Worcester,  by  the  death  of  John  Thornborough. 
Lincoln,  by  the  translation  of  Williams  to  York. 
Exeter,  „  „  Hall  to  Norwich. 

Bristol,        „  „  Skinner  to  Oxford. 

Chichester,  „  „  Duppa  to  Sarum. 

And  on  the  day  of  the  protest  a  motion  was  made  that  they  should  not  be 
filled  up. 


former  parliaments,  and  which  if  we  did  not,  we  should  betray  the 
trust  committed  to  us  by  his  majesty,  and  shamefully  betray  and 
abdicate  the  due  right 3  both  of  ourselves  and  successors.  To  this 
purpose  in  our  presence  he  drew  up  the  said  petition  and  protes- 
tation, avowing  it  to  be  legal,  just  and  agreeable  to  all  former 
proceedings  ;  and  being  fair  written  sent  it  to  our  several  lodgings 
for  our  hands ;  which  we  accordingly  subscribed,  intending  yet  to 
have  had  some  further  consultation  concerning  the  delivering  and 
whole  carriage  of  it.  But  ere  we  could  suppose  it  to  be  in  any 
hand  but  his  own,  the  first  news  we  heard  was,  that  there  were 
messengers  addressed  to  fetch  us  into  the  parliament  upon  an 
accusation  of  high  treason.  For  whereas  this  paper  was  to  have 
been  delivered,  first  to  his  majesty's  secretary,  and  after  perusal 

3  The  due  right.']  "  This  is  on  the  hypothesis,  that  there  are  three  estates, 
lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  commons.  Two  of  them  sit  in  one 
house,  and  (together]  compose  one  body;  the  third  sit  in  one  house,  and 
compose  another  body.  The  lords  spiritual  are  excluded :  they  remonstrate, 
and  say  a  force  being  put  upon  a  part  of  the  body,  the  acts  of  the  other  part 
are  void.  This  is  good  reasoning,  on  the  hypothesis :  but  the  hypothesis  is 
false.  The  bishops  do  not  make  a  third  estate,  but  are  part  of  the  general 
baronage  which  composes  the  house  of  lords." — Warburton's  Remarks  on 
Neal's  Hist,  of  the  Puritans;  Works,  vol.  xii.  p.  393,  4. 

This,  no  doubt,  is  correct,  according  to  the  views  and  language  of  one 
class  of  constitutional  writers  :  but  the  authorities  are  quite  as  numerous, 
and  perhaps  (to  say  the  least)  quite  of  as  much  value,  which  speak  of  the 
king  as  the  head,  and  of  three  other  distinct  estates  in  parliament,  (viz.  lords 
spiritual,  lords  temporal,  and  commons),  as  constituting  the  body  of  the 

Thus  Lord  Coke,  Institutes,  vol.  iv.  cap.  1.  "The  court  of  parliament  con- 
sisteth  of  the  king's  majesty,  sitting  there  as  in  his  royal  politic  capacity,  and 
of  the  three  estates  of  the  realm  :  one  of  which,"  he  adds,  "  represents  all  the 
commons  of  the  whole  realm."  Secondly,  we  may  take  the  title  of  the  form 
of  prayer  in  the  liturgy,  "  to  be  used  yearly  upon  the  fifth  day  of  November ; 
for  the  happy  deliverance  of  King  James  I  and  the  three  estates  of  England." 
Thirdly,  the  conjoint  authority  in  one,  of  the  lord  keeper  Pickering,  and  the 
lord  treasurer  Burghley  (A.D.  1 593).  "  Therefore,"  says  the  latter,  addressing 
the  house  of  peers,  "  as  was  delivered  by  the  lord  keeper,  her  majesty  hath 
summarily  imparted  the  same  to  this  assembly,  referring  the  consideration 
thereof  to  the  whole  three  estates,  whereof  two  are  in  this  place." — Cobbett'a 
Parl.  Hist.,  vol.  i.  p.  806.  These  may  suffice  as  a  specimen.  It  would  be 
easy  to  cite  a  great  many  more.  I  will  not  however  omit  to  mention  that  the 
whole  question  has  been  admirably  discussed  on  all  its  grounds  of  authority 
and  reason  by  bishop  Stillingfleet,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  Cases,  vol.  ii.  pp.  373 


by  him  to  his  majesty,  and  after  from  his  majesty  to  the  parlia- 
ment, and  for  that  purpose  to  the  lord  keeper,  the  lord  Littleton  *, 
who  was  the  speaker  of  the  house  of  peers  ;  all  these  professed 
not  to  have  perused  it  at  all,  but  the  said  lord  keeper,  willing  enough 
to  take  this  advantage  of  ingratiating  himself  with  the  house  of 
commons  and  the  faction,  to  which  he  knew  himself  sufficiently 
obnoxious,  finding  what  use  might  be  made  of  it  by  prejudicate 
minds,  reads  the  same  openly  in  the  house  of  the  lords  :  and  when 
he  found  some  of  the  faction  apprehensive  enough  of  misconstruc- 
tion, aggravates  the  matter  as  highly  offensive,  and  of  dangerous 
consequence  ;  and  thereupon  not  without  much  heat  and  vehe- 
mence, and  with  an  ill  preface,  it  is  sent  down  to  the  house  of 
commons ;  where  it  was  entertained  hainously,  Glynne  with  a  full 
mouth  crying  it  up  for  no  less  than  an  high  treason  ;  and  some 
comparing,  yea  preferring  it  to  the  powder  plot. 

We  poor  souls  (who  little  thought  that  we  had  done  any  thing 
that  might  deserve  a  chiding)  are  now  called  to  our  knees  at  the 
bar  and  charged  severally  with  high  treason,  being  not  a  little 
astonished  at  the  suddenness  of  this  crimination,  compared  with 
the  perfect  innocence  of  our  own  intentions,  which  were  only  to 
bring  us  to  our  due  places  in  parliament  with  safety  and  speed 
without  the  least  purpose  of  any  man's  offence.  But  now  traitors 
we  are  in  all  the  haste,  and  must  be  dealt  with  accordingly.  For 
on  January 5  30,  in  all  the  extremity  of  frost,  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  dark  evening,  are  we  voted  to  the  Tower  ;  only  two  of  our 
number 6  had  the  favour  of  the  Black  Rod  by  reason  of  their  age ; 
which  though  desired  by  a  noble  lord  on  my  behalf,  would  not  be 
yielded,  wherein  I  acknowledge,  and  bless  the  gracious  providence 
of  God ;  for  had  I  been  gratified,  I  had  been  undone  both  in 
body  and  purse ;  the  rooms  being  strait,  and  the  expence  beyond 
the  reach  of  my  estate.  The  news  of  this  our  crime  and  impri- 

4  Lord  Littleton.']  Sir  Edward  Lyttleton,  descended  from  Thomas  Lyttleton, 
the  youngest  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Lyttleton,  the  celebrated  judge,  and  author  of 
the  "Tenures."     He  was  created  Lord  Lyttleton  of  Mounslow,  February  18, 
1640.     His  title  became  extinct  at  his  death  in  1645.     The  present  lord 
Lyttleton  (or  Lyttelton)  is  descended  from  sir  William  Lyttleton,  the  eldest 
son  of  the  judge. 

5  January  ]  An  error,  probably  of  a  transcriber,  for  December :  it  will  have 
been  seen  that  the  committal  took  place  on  December  30,  and  that  bishop 
Hall's  letter  from  the  Tower  is  dated  January  24. 

6  Two  of  our  number.']  Morton,  of  Durham,  and  Wright,  of  Coventry  and 


sonment  soon  flew  over  the  city,  and  was  entertained  by  our  well- 
willers  with  ringing  of  bells  and  bonfires ;  who  now  gave  us  up 
(not  without  great  triumph)  for  lost  men,  railing  on  our  perfi- 
diousness,  and  adjudging  us  to  what  foul  deaths  they  pleased. 
And  what  scurrile  and  malicious  pamphlets  were  scattered  abroad 
throughout  the  kingdom,  and  in  foreign  parts,  blazoning  our  in- 
famy and  exaggerating  our  treasonable  practices  !  what  insulta- 
tions  of  our  adversaries  was  here  ! 

[A    LETTER7    SENT    FROM    THE    TOWER    TO    A    PRIVATE    FRIEND; 

"  To  my  much  respected  good  friend,  Mr.  H.  S. 

"  Worthy  Sir, 

"  You  think  it  strange,  that  I  should  salute  you  from  hence ; 
how  can  you  choose,  when  I  do  yet  still  wonder  to  see  myself 
here  ?  My  intentions,  and  this  place  are  such  strangers  that  I 
cannot  enough  marvel  how  they  met.  But,  howsoever,  I  do  in 
all  humility  kiss  the  rod  wherewith  I  smart,  as  well  knowing 
whose  hand  it  is  that  wields  it.  To  that  infinite  justice  who  can 
be  innocent?  but  to  my  king  and  country  never  heart  was  or 
can  be  more  clear ;  and  I  shall  beshrew  my  hand  if  it  shall  have 
(against  my  thoughts)  justly  offended  either ;  and  if  either  say 
so,  I  reply  not ;  as  having  learned  not  to  contest  with  those  that 
can  command  legions. 

u  In  the  mean  time  it  is  a  kind,  but  cold  compliment,  that 
you  pity  me ;  an  affection  well  placed  where  a  man  deserves  to 
be  miserable ;  for  me  I  am  not  conscious  of  such  merit.  You 
tell  me  in  what  fair  terms  I  stood  not  long  since  with  the  world ; 
how  large  room  I  had  in  the  hearts  of  the  best  men :  but  can 
you  tell  me  how  I  lost  it  ?  Truly  I  have  in  the  presence  of  God 
narrowly  searched  my  own  bosom ;  I  have  unpartially  ransacked 
this  fag-end  of  my  life,  and  curiously  examined  every  step  of  my 
ways,  and  I  cannot  by  the  most  exact  scrutiny  of  my  saddest 
thoughts,  find  what  it  is  that  I  have  done  to  forfeit  that  good 
estimation  wherewith  you  say  I  was  once  blessed. 

"  I  can  secretly  arraign  and  condemn  myself  of  infinite  trans- 

1  A  letter.']  This  letter  is  now  inserted  according  to  its  date.  In 
Mr.  Pratt's  edition  of  Bishop  Hall  it  is  prefixed  to  the  Hard  Measure. 


gressions  before  the  tribunal  of  heaven.  Who  that  dwells  in  a 
house  of  clay  can  be  pure  in  his  sight,  who  charged  his  angels 
with  folly  ?  0  !  God,  when  I  look  upon  the  reckonings  betwixt 
thee  and  my  soul,  and  find  my  shameful  arrears,  I  can  be  most 
vile  in  my  own  sight,  because  I  have  deserved  to  be  so  in  thine ; 
yet  even  then,  in  thy  most  pure  eyes,  give  me  leave  the  whiles, 
not  to  abdicate  my  sincerity.  Thou  knowest  my  heart  desires  to 
be  right  with  thee,  whatever  my  failings  may  have  been  ;  and  I 
know  what  value  thou  puttest  upon  those  sincere  desires,  not- 
withstanding all  the  intermixtures  of  our  miserable  infirmities. 
These  I  can  penitently  bewail  to  thee ;  but  in  the  mean  time, 
what  have  I  done  to  men  ?  Let  them  not  spare  to  shame  me 
with  the  late  sinful  declinations  of  my  age ;  and  fetch  blushes 
(if  they  can)  from  a  wrinkled  face. 

"  Let  mine  enemies  (for  such  I  perceive  I  have,  and  those  are 
the  surest  monitors)  say  what  I  have  offended.  For  their  better 
irritation,  my  conscience  bids  me  boldly  to  take  up  the  challenge 
of  good  Samuel,  '  Behold  here  I  am,  witness  against  me  before  the 
Lord,  and  before  his  anointed :  Whose  oxe  have  I  taken  ?  or  whose 
ass  have  I  taken  ?  or  whom  have  I  defrauded  ?  whom  have  I 
oppressed?  or  of  whose  hand  have  I  received  any  bribe  to  blind 
mine  eyes  therewith  ?  and  I  will  restore  it  to  you.'' 

"  Can  they  say,  that  I  bore  up  the  reins  of  government  too 
hard,  and  exercised  my  jurisdiction  in  a  rigorous  and  tyrannical 
way,  insolently  lording  it  over  my  charge  ? — Malice  itself,  perhaps, 
would,  but  dare  not  speak  it ;  or  if  it  should,  the  attestation  of 
so  numerous  and  grave  a  clergy  would  choak  such  impudence. 
Let  them  witness,  whether  they  were  not  still  entertained,  with  an 
equal  return  of  reverence,  as  if  they  had  been  all  bishops  with 
me,  or  I  only  a  presbyter  with  them ;  according  to  the  old  rule 
of  Egbert  archbishop  of  York,  Infra  domum,  episcopus  collegam 
se  presbyterorum  esse  cognoscat.  Let  them  say  whether  aught  here 
looked  like  despotical ;  or  sounded  rather  of  imperious  command, 
than  of  brotherly  complying ;  whether  I  have  not  rather  from 
some  beholders  undergone  the  censure  of  a  too  humble  remissness, 
as,  perhaps,  stooping  too  low  beneath  the  eminence  of  episcopal 
dignity ;  whether  I  have  not  suffered  as  much  in  some  opinions, 
for  the  winning  mildness  of  my  administration,  as  some  others  for 
a  rough  severity  ? 

"  Can  they  say  (for  this  aspersion  is  likewise  common)  that  I 
barred  the  free  course  of  religious  exercises,  by  the  suppression  of 


painful  and  peaceable  preachers  ? — If  shame  will  suffer  any  man 
to  object  it,  let  me  challenge  him  to  instance  but  in  one  name. 
Nay  the  contrary  is  so  famously  known  in  the  western  parts,  that 
every  mouth  will  herein  justify  me.  What  free  admission  and 
encouragement,  have  I  always  given  to  all  the  sons  of  peace,  that 
came  with  God's  message  in  their  mouths?  What  mis-sug- 
gestions have  I  waved !  What  blows  have  I  borne  off  in  the 
behalf  of  some  of  them,  from  some  gain-sayers  ?  How  have  I 
often  and  publicly  professed,  that  as  well  might  we  complain  of 
too  many  stars  in  the  sky,  as  too  many  orthodox  preachers  in  the 
church  ? 

"  Can  they  complain,  that  I  fretted  the  necks  of  my  clergy, 
with  the  uneasy  yoke  of  new  and  illegal  impositions  ? — Let  them 
whom  I  have  thus  hurt  blazon  my  unjust  severity,  and  write  their 
wrongs  in  marble ;  but  if,  disliking  all  novel  devices,  I  have  held 
close  to  those  ancient  rules  which  limited  the  audience  of  our 
godly  predecessors ;  if  I  have  grated  upon  no  man's  conscience 
by  the  pressure  (no  not  by  the  tender)  of  the  late  oath 8,  or  any 
unprescribed  ceremony ;  if  I  have  freely  in  the  committee,  ap- 
pointed by  the  honourable  house  of  peers,  declared  my  open 
dislike  in  all  innovations,  both  in  doctrine  and  rites ; — why  doth 
my  innocence  suffer  ? 

"  Can  they  challenge  me  as  a  close  and  backstair  friend  to 
Popery  or  Arminianism,  who  have  in  so  many  pulpits,  and  so 
many  presses,  cried  down  both. — Surely  the  very  paper  that  I 
have  spent  in  the  refutation  of  both  these,  is  enough  to  stop  more 
mouths  than  can  be  guilty  of  this  calumny. 

u  Can  they  check  me  with  a  lazy  silence  in  my  place,  with  in- 
frequence  of  preaching  ? — Let  all  the  populous  auditories  where  I 
have  lived  witness,  whether  having  furnished  all  the  churches  near 
me  with  able  preachers,  I  took  not  all  opportunities  of  supplying 
such  courses  as  I  could  get  in  my  cathedral,  and  when  my  tongue 
was  silent,  let  the  world  say  whether  my  hand  were  idle. 

"  Lastly,  since  no  man  can  offer  to  upbraid  me  with  too  much 
pomp,  which  is  wont  to  be  the  common  eye-sore  of  our  envinl 
profession  ;  can  any  man  pretend  to  a  ground  of  taxing  me  (as  I 
perceive  one  of  late  hath  most  unjustly  done)  of  too  much  world- 
lint  .>3  ? 

"  Surely  of  all  the  vices  forbidden  in  the  decalogue,  there  is  no 
8  The  tale  oathJ]  The  etcetera  oath.    See  note  above,  p.  302. 


one  which  my  heart  upon  due  examination  can  less  fasten  upon 
me  than  this.  He  that  made  it,  knows,  that  he  hath  put  into  it 
a  true  disregard  (save  only  for  necessary  use)  of  the  world,  and  all 
that  it  can  boast  of,  whether  for  profit,  pleasure,  or  glory.  No, 
no ;  I  know  the  world  too  well  to  doat  upon  it.  Whilst  I  am  in 
it,  how  can  I  but  use  it  ?  but  I  never  care,  never  yield  to  enjoy  it. 
It  were  too  great  a  shame  for  a  philosopher,  a  Christian,  a  divine, 
a  bishop,  to  have  his  thoughts  groveling  here  upon  earth ;  for 
mine,  they  scorn  the  employment,  and  look  upon  all  these  sublu- 
nary distractions  (as  upon  this  man's  false  censure)  with  no  other 
eyes  than  contempt. 

"  And  now,  sir,  since  I  cannot  (how  secretly  faulty  soever) 
guess  at  my  own  public  exorbitances,  I  beseech  you,  where  you 
hear  my  name  traduced,  learn  of  my  accusers  (whose  lyncean  eyes 
would  seem  to  see  farther  into  me  than  my  own)  what  singular 
offence  I  have  committed. 

"  If,  perhaps,  my  calling  be  my  crime  ;  it  is  no  other  than  the 
most  holy  fathers  of  the  church  in  the  primitive  and  succeeding 
ages,  ever  since  the  apostles,  (many  of  them  also  blessed  martyrs) 
have  been  guilty  of:  it  is  no  other  than  all  the  holy  doctors  of  the 
church  in  all  generations  ever  since  have  celebrated,  as  most 
reverend,  sacred,  inviolable  :  it  is  no  other  than  all  the  whole 
Christian  world,  excepting  one  small  handful  of  our  neighbours 
(whose  condition  denied  them 9  the  opportunity  of  this  govern- 
ment) is  known  to  enjoy  without  contradiction. — How  safe  is  it 
erring  in  such  company  ! 

"  If  my  offence  be  in  my  pen,  which  hath  (as  it  could)  under- 
taken the  defence l  of  that  apostolical  institution  (though  with  all 
modesty  and  fair  respects  to  the  churches  differing  from  us)  I 
cannot  deprecate  a  truth  :  and  such  I  know  this  to  be  :  which  is 
since  so  cleared  by  better  hands 2,  that  I  well  hope  the  better 
informed  world  cannot  but  sit  down  convinced ;  neither  doubt  I 
but  that  as  metals  receive  the  more  lustre  with  often  rubbing,  this 
truth,  the  more  agitation  it  undergoes,  shall  appear  every  day 
more  glorious.  Only,  may  the  good  Spirit  of  the  Almighty  speedily 

9  Condition  denied  them.']  See  Hooker's  Preface,  chap.  ii.  §  4,  or  Christian 
Institutes,  vol.  iv.  p.  369. 

1  Undertaken  the  defence.]  viz.  in  his  Episcopacy  by  divine  right,  asserted  ; 
the  Humble  Remonstrance  ;  Defence  of  the  Humble  Remonstrance  ;  Answer  to 
Smectymnus,  &c.  Works,  vol.  ix.  8vo. 

2  By  better  hands]  Dr.  Hammond,  archbishop  Ussher,  &c. 


dispel  all  those  dusky  prejudices  from  the  minds  of  men,  which 
may  hinder  them  from  discerning  so  clear  a  light ! 

"  Shortly  then,  knowing  nothing  by  myself,  whereby  I  have 
deserved  to  alienate  any  good  heart  from  me,  I  shall  resolve  to 
rest  securely  upon  the  acquitting  testimony  of  a  good  conscience, 
and  the  secret  approbation  of  my  gracious  God  ;  who  shall  one  day 
cause  mine  innocence  to  break  forth  as  the  morning  light,  and  shall 
give  me  beauty  for  bonds ;  and  for  a  light  and  momentaiy  afflic- 
tion, an  eternal  weight  of  glory. — To  shut  up  all,  and  to  surcease 
your  trouble ;  I  write  not  this,  as  one  that  would  pump  for  favour 
and  reputation  from  the  disaffected  multitude  (for  I  charge  you, 
that  what  passes  privately  betwixt  us,  may  not  fall  under  common 
eyes)  but  only  with  this  desire  and  intention,  to  give  you  true 
grounds,  where  you  shall  hear  my  name  mentioned  with  a  cause- 
less offence,  to  yield  me  a  just  and  charitable  vindication.  Go 
you  on  still  to  do  the  office  of  a  true  friend,  yea,  the  duty  of  a 
just  man ;  in  speaking  in  the  cause  of  the  dumb,  in  righting  the 
innocent,  in  rectifying  the  misguided ;  and  lastly,  the  service  of  a 
faithful  and  Christian  patriot,  in  helping  the  times  with  the  best 
of  your  prayers ;  which  is  the  daily  task  of  your  much  devoted 
and  thankful  friend, 

"  Jos.  NORVIC." 

From  the  Tower, 
Jan.  24,  1641'.] 

Being  caged  *  sure  enough  in  the  Tower,  the  faction  had  now 
fair  opportunities  to  work  their  own  designs.  They  therefore 
taking  the  advantage  of  our  restraint,  renew  the  bill  of  theirs, 
(which  had  been  twice  before  rejected  since  the  beginning  of 
this  session)  for  taking  away  the  votes  of  bishops 5  in  parliament, 

»  1641.]  That  is,  1641-2. 

4  Being  caged.']  On  January  17,  1641-2,  the  twelve  bishops  had  sent  in 
their  answer  to  the  charges  against  them. 

6  The  votes  of  bishops.']  "  How  oft  was  the  business  of  the  bishops'  enjoying 
their  ancient  places  and  undoubted  privileges  in  the  house  of  peers  carried 
for  them  by  far  the  major  part  of  the  lords !  Yet,  after  five  repulses,  con- 
trary to  all  order  and  custom,  it  was  by  tumultuary  instigations  obtruded 
again,  and  by  a  few  carried  when  most  of  the  peers  were  forced  to  absent 
themselves."— Icdn  Basilike,  chap.  ix.  Upon  the  listing  and  raising  armies 
against  the  king. 


and  in  a  very  thin  house  easily  passed  it :  which  once  conde- 
scended unto,  Iknownot  by  what  strong  importunity 6,  his  majesty's 
assent 7  was  drawn  from  him  thereunto.  We  now,  instead  of 
looking  after  our  wonted  honour  must  bend  our  thoughts  upon 
the  guarding  of  our  lives,  which  were  with  no  small  eagerness, 
pursued  by  the  violent  agents  of  the  faction.  Their  sharpest  wits 
and  greatest  lawyers  were  employed  to  advance  our  impeachment 
to  the  height ;  but  the  more  they  looked  into  the  business,  the 
less  crime  could  they  find  to  fasten  upon  us :  insomuch  as  one  of 
their  oracles,  being  demanded  his  judgment  concerning  the  fact, 
professed  to  them,  they  might  with  as  good  reason  accuse  us  of 
adultery.  Yet  still  there  are  we  fast,  only  upon  petition  to  the 
lords  obtaining  this  favour,  that  we  might  have  counsel  assigned 
us ;  which  after  much  reluctation,  many  menaces  from  the  com- 
mons, against  any  man  of  all  the  commoners  of  England  that 
should  dare  to  be  seen  to  plead  in  this  case  against  the  represen- 
tative body  of  the  commons,  was  granted  us.  The  lords  assigned 
us  five  very  worthy  lawyers,  which  were  nominated  to  them  by  us. 
What  trouble  and  charge  it  was  to  procure  those  eminent  and 
much  employed  counsellors  to  come  to  the  Tower  to  us,  and  to 
observe  the  strict  laws  of  the  place,  for  the  time  of  their  ingress, 
regress,  and  stay,  it  is  not  hard  to  judge.  After  we  had  lien 
some  weeks  there,  however,  the  house  of  commons,  upon  the  first 
tender  of  our  impeachment  had  desired  we  might  be  brought  to 
a  speedy  trial,  yet  now  finding  belike  how  little  ground  they  had 
for  so  high  an  accusation,  they  began  to  slack  their  pace,  and 
suffered  us  rather  to  languish  under  the  fear  of  so  dreadful 
arraignment.  In  so  much  as  now  we  are  fain  to  petition  the 
lords  that  we  might  be  brought  to  our  trial.  The  day  was  set ; 
several  summons  were  sent  unto  us  :  the  lieutenant  had  his  war- 
rant to  bring  us  to  the  bar;  our  impeachment  was  severally 
read  ;  we  pleaded  not  guilty,  modo  et  forma,  and  desired  speedy 
proceedings,  which  were  accordingly  promised,  but  not  too  hastily 
performed.  After  long  expectation,  another  day  was  appointed 
for  the  prosecution  of  this  high  charge.  The  lieutenant  brought 
us  again  to  the  bar  ;  but  with  what  shoutings  and  exclamations 

6  Strong  importunity^]  This  proceeded  from  the  ill-advised  judgment  of 
some  of  the  king's  most  confidential  friends,  and   from  the  queen. — See 
Clarendon's  History  of  the  Rebellion,  b.  iv. 

7  Assent.']  The  king  gave  his  assent  to  the  bill  on  February  14,  1641-2. 


and  furious  expressions  of  the  enraged  multitudes,  it  is  not  easy 
to  apprehend.  Being  thither  brought  and  severally  charged 
upon  our  knees,  and  having  given  our  negative  answers  to  every 
particular,  two  bishops,  London  and  Winchester8,  were  called  in 
as  witnesses  against  us,  as  in  that  point,  whether  they  appre- 
hended any  such  case  of  fears  in  the  tumults  assembled,  as  that  we 
were  in  any  danger  of  our  lives  in  coming  to  the  parliament ; 
who  seemed  to  incline  to  a  favourable  report  of  the  perils  threat- 
ened, though  one  of  them  was  convinced  out  of  his  own  mouth, 
from  the  relations  himself  had  made  at  the  archbishop  of  York's 
lodging.  After  this  Wild  and  Glyn  made  fearful  declamations  at 
the  bar  against  us,  aggravating  all  the  circumstances  of  our  pre- 
tended treason  to  the  highest  pitch.  Our  counsel  were  all  ready 
at  the  bar  to  plead  for  us  in  answer  of  their  clamorous  and 
envious  suggestions  ;  but  it  was  answered,  that  it  was  now  too 
late,  we  should  have  another  day,  which  day  to  this  day  never 
came  9. 

The  circumstances  of  that  day's  hearing  were  more  grievous  to 
us  than  the  substance  ;  for  we  were  all  thronged  so  miserably  in 
that  strait  room  before  the  bar,  by  reason  that  the  whole  house 
of  commons  would  be  there  to  see  the  prizes  of  their  champions 
played,  that  we  stood  the  whole  afternoon  in  no  small  torture  ; 
sweating  and  struggling  with  a  merciless  multitude,  till  being 
dismissed  we  were  exposed  to  a  new  and  greater  danger.  For 
now  in  the  dark  we  must  to  the  Tower,  by  barge  as  we  came, 
and  must  shoot  the  bridge  l  with  no  small  peril.  That  God, 
under  whose  merciful  protection  we  are,  returned  us  to  our 
safe  custody. 

There  now  we  lay  some  weeks  longer,  expecting  the  summons 
for  our  counsel's  answer ;  but  instead  thereof  our  merciful  adver- 
saries, well  finding  how  sure  they  would  be  foiled  in  that  unjust 
charge  of  treason,  now  under  pretences  of  remitting  the  height  of 
rigour,  waive  their  former  impeachment  of  treason  against  us,  and 
fall  upon  an  accusation  of  high  misdemeanors  in  that  our  protes- 

8  London  and  Winchester.]  William  Juxon,  and  Walter  Curll. 

9  Never  came.']   The    time  began  on  February  19,   1641-2.     See  "Pro- 
ceedings against  the  twelve  bishops  upon  an  accusation  of  high  treason," 
vol.  iv.  State  Trials,  p.  63—82. 

1  Shoot  the  bridgeJ]  i.  e.,  pass  under  London-bridge,  with  the  ebbing  tide, 
when  the  fall  of  water  was  great.  See  Life  of  Wolsey,  in  vol.  i.  p.  492. 


tation,  and  will  have  us  prosecuted  as  guilty  of  a  premunire : 
although  as  we  conceive  the  law  hath  ever  been  in  the  parliamen- 
tary proceedings,  that  if  a  man  were  impeached,  as  of  treason 
being  the  highest  crime,  the  accusant  must  hold  him  to  the  proof 
of  the  charge,  and  may  not  fall  to  any  meaner  impeachment  upon 
failing  of  the  higher.  But  in  this  case  of  ours  it  fell  out  other- 
wise; for  although  the  lords  had  openly  promised  us,  that 
nothing  should  be  done  against  us,  till  we  and  our  counsel 
were  heard  in  our  defence,  yet  the  next  news  we  heard  was,  the 
house  of  commons  had  drawn  up  a  bill  against  us,  wherein  they 
declared  us  to  be  delinquents  of  a  very  high  nature,  and  had 
thereupon  desired  to  have  it  enacted  that  all  our  spiritual  means 
should  be  taken  away :  only  there  should  be  a  yearly  allowance 
to  every  bishop  for  his  maintenance,  according  to  a  proportion 
by  them  set  down  ;  wherein  they  were  pleased  that  my  share 
should  come  to  400£.  per  annum.  This  bill  was  sent  up  to 
the  lords  and  by  them  also  passed,  and  there  hath  ever  since 

This  being  done,  after  some  weeks  more,  finding  the  Tower 
besides  the  restraint,  chargeable,  we  petitioned  the  lords  that 
we  might  be  admitted  to  bail ;  and  have  liberty  to  return  to 
our  homes.  The  earl  of  Essex  moved,  the  lords  assented,  took 
our  bail,  sent  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  for  our  discharge. 
How  glad  were  we  to  fly  out  of  our  cage  !  No  sooner  was  I  got 
to  my  lodging,  than  I  thought  to  take  a  little  fresh  air,  in  St. 
James's  park ;  and  in  my  return  to  my  lodging  in  the  Dean's 
yard,  passing  through  Westminster-hall,  was  saluted  by  divers 
of  my  parliament  acquaintance,  and  welcomed  to  my  liberty. 
Whereupon  some  that  looked  upon  me  with  an  evil  eye  ran  into 
the  house,  and  complained  that  the  bishops  were  let  loose ; 
which  it  seems  was  not  well  taken  by  the  house  of  commons, 
who  presently  sent  a  kind  of  expostulation  to  the  lords,  that  they 
had  dismissed  so  heinous  offenders  without  their  knowledge  and 
consent.  Scarce  had  I  rested  me  in  my  lodging  when  there 
comes  a  messenger  to  me  with  the  sad  news  of  sending  me  and 
the  rest  of  my  brethren  the  bishops  back  to  the  Tower  again  ; 
from  whence  we  came,  thither  we  must  go  ;  and  thither  I  went 
with  an  heavy  (but  I  thank  God  not  impatient)  heart.  After  we 
had  continued  there  some  six  weeks  longer,  and  earnestly  peti- 
tioned to  return  to  our  several  charges,  we  were  upon  5000£. 
bond  dismissed,  with  a  clause  of  revocation  at  a  short  warning, 


if  occasion  should  require.  Thus  having  spent  the  time  betwixt 
new-year's  eve  and  Whitsuntide  in  those  safe  walls,  where  we 
by  turns  preached  every  Lord's  day  to  a  large  auditory  of 
citizens,  we  disposed  of  ourselves  to  the  places  of  our  several 

For  myself,  addressing  myself  to  Norwich,  whither  it  was  his 
majesty's  pleasure  to  remove  me,  I  was  at  the  first  received  with 
more  respect,  than  in  such  times  I  could  have  expected.  There 
I  preached  the  day  after  my  arrival  to  a  numerous  and  attentive 
people ;  neither  was  sparing  of  my  pains  in  this  kind  ever  since, 
till  the  times  growing  every  day  more  impatient  of  a  bishop, 
threatened  my  silencing.  There,  though  with  some  secret  mur- 
murs of  disaffected  persons,  I  enjoyed  peace  till  the  ordinance  of 
sequestration  came  forth,  which  was  in  the  latter  end  of  March 
following.  Then,  when  I  was  in  hope  of  receiving  the  profits  of 
the  foregoing  half  year,  for  the  maintenance  of  my  family,  were 
all  my  rents  stopped  and  diverted,  and  in  the  April  following  came 
the  sequestrators,  viz.  Mr.  Sotherton,  Mr.  Tooly,  Mr.  Rawley, 
Mr.  Greenewood,  &c.  to  the  palace,  and  told  me  that  by  virtue  of 
an  ordinance  of  parliament  they  must  seize  upon  the  palace,  and 
all  the  estate  I  had,  both  real  and  personal ;  and  accordingly  sent 
certain  men  appointed  by  them  (whereof  one  had  been  burned  in 
the  hand  for  the  mark  of  his  truth,)  to  apprize  all  the  goods 
that  were  in  the  house,  which  they  accordingly  executed  with  all 
diligent  severity,  not  leaving  so  much  as  a  dozen  of  trenchers,  or 
my  children's  pictures  out  of  their  curious  inventory.  Yea  they 
would  have  apprized  our  very  wearing  clothes,  had  not  alderman 
Tooly  and  sheriff  Rawley  (to  whom  I  sent  to  require  their  judg- 
ment concerning  the  ordinance  in  this  point)  declared  their 
opinion  to  the  contrary. 

These  goods,  both  library  and  houshold  stuff  of  all  kinds,  were 
appointed  to  be  exposed  to  public  sale.  Much  inquiry  there  was 
when  the  goods  should  be  brought  to  the  market ;  but  in  the  mean 
time  Mrs.  Goodwin,  a  religious  good  gentlewoman,  whom  yet  we 
had  never  known  or  seen,  being  moved  with  compassion,  very 
kindly  offered  to  lay  down  to  the  sequestrators  that  whole  sum 
which  the  goods  were  valued  at ;  and  was  pleased  to  leave  thorn 
in  our  hands  for  our  use,  till  we  might  be  able  to  repurchase 
them ;  which  she  did  accordingly,  and  had  the  goods  formally 
delivered  to  her  by  Mr.  Smith,  and  Mr.  Greenewood,  two  seques- 
trators. As  for  the  books,  several  stationers  looked  on  them, 


but  were  not  forward  to  buy  them ;  at  last  Mr.  Cook,  a  worthy 
divine  of  this  diocese,  gave  bond  to  the  sequestrators,  to  pay  to 
them  the  whole  sum  whereat  they  were  set,  which  was  afterwards 
satisfied  out  of  that  poor  pittance  that  was  allowed  me  for  my 
maintenance.  As  for  my  evidences  they  required  them  from  me. 
I  denied  them,  as  not  holding  myself  bound  to  deliver  them. 
They  nailed,  and  sealed  up  the  door,  and  took  such  as  they  found 
with  me. 

But  before  this,  the  first  noise  that  I  heard  of  my  trouble  was, 
that  one  morning,  before  my  servants  were  up,  there  came  to  my 
gates  one  Wright,  a  London  trooper,  attended  with  others, 
requiring  entrance,  threatening  if  they  were  not  admitted,  to 
break  open  the  gates  ;  whom  I  found  at  my  first  sight  struggling 
with  one  of  my  servants  for  a  pistol,  which  he  had  in  his  hand. 
I  demanded  his  business  at  that  unseasonable  time ;  he  told  me, 
he  came  to  search  for  arms  and  ammunition,  of  which  I  must  be 
disarmed.  I  told  him  I  had  only  two  muskets  in  the  house,  and 
no  other  military  provision.  He  not  resting  upon  my  word 
searched  round  about  the  house,  looked  into  the  chests  and 
trunks,  examined  the  vessels  in  the  cellar  ;  finding  no  other  war- 
like furniture,  he  asked  me  what  horses  I  had,  for  his  commission 
was  to  take  them  also.  I  told  him  how  poorly  I  was  stored,  and 
that  my  age  would  not  allow  me  to  travel  on  foot.  In  conclusion 
he  took  one  horse  for  the  present,  and  such  account  of  another, 
that  he  did  highly  expostulate  with  me  afterwards,  that  I  had 
otherwise  disposed  of  him. 

Now  not  only  my  rents  present,  but  the  arrearages  of  the 
former  years,  which  I  had  in  favour  forborne  to  some  tenants, 
being  treacherously  confessed  to  the  sequestrators,  were  by  them 
called  for,  and  taken  from  me ;  neither  was  there  any  course  at 
all  taken  for  my  maintenance.  I  therefore  addressed  myself  to 
the  committee  sitting  here  at  Norwich,  and  desired  them  to  give 
order  for  some  means,  out  of  that  large  patrimony  of  the  church, 
to  be  allowed  me.  They  all  thought  it  very  just,  and  there  being 
present  sir  Thomas  Woodhouse 2,  and  sir  John  Potts3,  parliament 
men,  it  was  moved  and  held  fit  by  them  and  the  rest,  that  the 

2  Sir  Thomas  Woodhouse.]  Of  Kemberley,  M.P.  for  Thetford.  He  was 
the  second  baronet  of  the  name.  The  present  lord  Wodehouse  is  his  lineal 

8  Sir  John  Potts.']  Of  Mannington,  M.P.  for  Norfolk.  He  was  the  first 
baronet  of  his  family. 

VOL.   IV.  Y 


proportion  which  the  votes  of  the  parliament  had  pitched  upon, 
viz.  4:001.  per  annum,  should  be  allowed  to  me.  My  lord  of  Man- 
chester, who  was  then  conceived  to  have  great  power  in  matter  of 
these  sequestrations,  was  moved  herewith.  He  apprehended  it 
very  just  and  reasonable,  and  wrote  to  the  committee  here  to  set 
out  so  many  of  the  manors  belonging  to  this  bishopric  as  should 
amount  to  the  said  sum  of  400£.  annually ;  which  was  answerably 
done  under  the  hands  of  the  whole  table.  And  now  I  well  hoped, 
I  should  yet  have  a  good  competency  of  maintenance  out  of  that 
plentiful  estate  which  I  might  have  had :  but  those  hopes  were 
no  sooner  conceived  than  dashed ;  for  before  I  could  gather  up 
one  quarterns  rent,  there  comes  down  an  order  from  the  commit- 
tee for  sequestrations  above,  under  the  hand  of  serjeant  Wild4  the 
chairman,  procured  by  Mr.  Miles  Corbet 5,  to  inhibit  any  such 
allowance ;  and  telling  our  committee  here,  that  neither  they, 
nor  any  other  had  power  to  allow  me  any  thing  at  all :  but  if  my 
wife  found  herself  to  need  a  maintenance,  upon  her  suit  to  the 
committee  of  lords  and  commons,  it  might  be  granted  that  she 
should  have  a  fifth  part  according  to  the  ordinance,  allowed  for 
the  sustentation  of  herself,  and  her  family.  Hereupon  she  sends 
a  petition  up  to  that  committee,  which  after  a  long  delay  was 
admitted  to  be  read,  and  an  order  granted  for  the  fifth  part.  But 
still  the  rents  and  revenues  both  of  my  spiritual  and  temporal 
lands  were  taken  up  by  the  sequestrators  both  in  Norfolk,  and 
Suffolk,  and  Essex,  and  we  kept  off  from  either  allowance  or 
account.  At  last  upon  much  pressing,  Beadle  the  solicitor,  and 
Rust  the  collector,  brought  in  an  account  to  the  committee,  such 
as  it  was  ;  but  so  confused  and  perplexed,  and  so  utterly  imper- 
fect, that  we  could  never  come  to  know  what  a  fifth  part  meant : 
but  they  were  content  that  I  should  eat  my  books  by  setting  off 
the  sum  engaged  for  them  out  of  the  fifth  part.  Mean  time  the 
synodals  both  in  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  and  all  the  spiritual  profits 
of  the  diocese  were  also  kept  back,  only  ordinations  and  institu- 
tions continued  a  while.  But  after  the  covenant 6  was  appointed 
to  be  taken,  and  was  generally  swallowed  of  both  clergy  and  laity, 
my  power  of  ordination  was  with  some  strange  violence  restrained. 
For  when  I  was  going  on  in  my  wonted  course  (which  no  law  or 

*  Serjeant  Wild.']  John  Wild,  or  Wylde,  M.P.  for  Worcestershire. 
6  Miles  Corbet.']  M.P.  for  Yarmouth. 

c  After  the  covenant.']    See  lord  Clarendon's  Hist,  nf  the  Rebellion,  b.  vii. 
Fuller,  Church  History,  book  x.  p.  201—7. 


ordinance  had  inhibited)  certain  forward  volunteers  in  the  city, 
banding  together,  stir  up  the  mayor  and  aldermen  and  sheriffs  to 
call  me  to  an  account  for  an  open  violation  of  their  Covenant. 
To  this  purpose  divers  of  them  came  to  my  gates  at  a  very  unsea- 
sonable time,  and  knocking  very  vehemently,  required  to  speak 
with  the  bishop  !  Messages  were  sent  to  them  to  know  their 
business.  Nothing  would  satisfy  them  but  the  bishop's  presence ; 
at  last  I  came  down  to  them,  and  demanded  what  the  matter 
was ;  they  would  have  the  gate  opened,  and  then  they  would  tell 
me ;  I  answered  that  I  would  know  them  better  first :  if  they 
had  any  thing  to  say  to  me  I  was  ready  to  hear  them.  They 
told  me  they  had  a  writing  to  me  from  Mr.  Mayor,  and  some 
other  of  their  magistrates.  The  paper  contained  both  a  challenge 
of  me  for  breaking  the  Covenant,  in  ordaining  ministers  ;  and 
withal  required  me  to  give  in  the  names  of  those  which  were 
ordained  by  me  both  then  and  formerly  since  the  Covenant.  My 
answer  was  that  Mr.  Mayor  was  much  abused  by  those  who  had 
misinformed  him,  and  drawn  that  paper  from  him ;  that  I  would 
the  next  day  give  a  full  answer  to  the  writing.  They  moved  that 
my  answer  might  be  by  my  personal  appearance  at  the  Guildhall. 
I  asked  them  when  they  ever  heard  of  a  bishop  of  Norwich  ap- 
pearing before  a  mayor.  I  knew  mine  own  place,  and  would  take 
that  way  of  answer  which  I  thought  fit ;  and  so  dismissed  them, 
who  had  given  out  that  day,  that  had  they  known  before  of  mine 
ordaining,  they  would  have  pulled  me  and  those  whom  I  ordained 
out  of  the  chapel  by  the  ears. 

Whiles  I  received  nothing,  yet  something  was  required  of  me. 
They  were  not  ashamed  after  they  had  taken  away,  and  sold  all 
my  goods  and  personal  estate,  to  come  to  me  for  assessments, 
and  monthly  payments  for  that  estate  which  they  had  taken,  and 
took  distresses  from  me  upon  my  most  just  denial,  and  vehe- 
mently required  me  to  find  the  wonted  arms  of  my  predecessors, 
when  they  had  left  me  nothing.  Many  insolences  and  affronts 
were  in  all  this  time  put  upon  us.  One  while  a  whole  rabble  of 
volunteers  come  to  my  gates  late,  when  they  were  locked  up,  and 
called  for  the  porter  to  give  them  entrance,  which  being  not 
yielded,  they  threatened  to  make  by  force,  and  had  not  the  said 
gates  been  very  strong  they  had  done  it.  Others  of  them 
clambered  over  the  walls,  and  would  come  into  mine  house  ; 
their  errand  (they  said)  was  to  search  for  delinquents.  What 
they  would  have  done  I  know  not,  had  not  we  by  a  secret  way 

Y  2 


sent  to  raise  the  officers  for  our  rescue.  Another  while  the  sheriff 
Toftes,  and  alderman  Linsey,  attended  with  many  zealous  fol- 
lowers, came  into  my  chapel  to  look  for  superstitious  pictures, 
and  relics  of  idolatry,  and  sent  for  me,  to  let  me  know  they  found 
those  windows  full  of  images,  which  were  very  offensive,  and  must 
be  demolished !  I  told  them  they  were  the  pictures  of  some 
antient  and  worthy  bishops,  as  St.  Ambrose,  Austin,  &c.  It 
was  answered  me,  that  they  were  so  many  popes;  and  one 
younger  man  amongst  the  rest  (Townsend  as  I  perceived  after- 
wards) would  take  upon  him  to  defend  that  every  diocesan  bishop 
was  pope.  I  answered  him  with  some  scorn,  and  obtained  leave 
that  I  might  with  the  least  loss  and  defacing  of  the  windows,  give 
order  for  taking  off  that  offence,  which  I  did  by  causing  the 
heads  of  those  pictures  to  be  taken  off,  since  I  knew  the  bodies 
could  not  offend. 

There  was  not  that  care  and  moderation  used  in  reforming 
the  cathedral  church  bordering  upon  my  palace.  It  is  no  other 
than  tragical  to  relate  the  carriage  of  that  furious  sacrilege, 
whereof  our  eyes  and  ears  were  the  sad  witnesses,  under  the 
authority  and  presence  of  Linsey,  Toftes  the  sheriff,  and  Greene- 
wood.  Lord,  what  work  was  here,  what  clattering  of  glasses, 
what  beating  down  of  walls,  what  tearing  up  of  monuments,  what 
pulling  down  of  seats,  what  wresting  out  of  irons  and  brass  from 
the  windows  and  graves !  what  defacing  of  arms,  what  demo- 
lishing of  curious  stone- work,  that  had  not  any  representation  in 
the  world,  but  only  of  the  cost  of  the  founder,  and  skill  of  the 
mason ;  what  tooting  and  piping  upon  the  destroyed  organ  pipes, 
and  what  a  hideous  triumph  on  the  market  day  before  all  the 
country,  when  in  a  kind  of  sacrilegious  and  profane  procession, 
all  the  organ  pipes,  vestments,  both  copes  and  surplices,  together 
with  the  leaden  cross 7,  which  had  been  newly  sawn  down  from 

7  Leaden  cross.']    In  the  church-warden's  accounts  of  the  parish  of  Lam- 
beth, fol.  288,  A.D.  1642,  is  the  following  entry  : 

"  Paid  for  taking  downe  the  crosse  off  the  steeple       ...016"